Lost and Found
by squeekness
Summary: Part two of my Twilight series. Remy investigates a former lover, Logan assembles his team for a return to Twilight, and Henry finally comes home.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Remy investigates a former lover, Logan assembles his team for a return to Twilight, and Henry finally comes home.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting this book. I continue to struggle with my status as a full time worker now, especially since my arthritis has refused to settle down and leave me be. They've also been making me work some overtime shifts at work which I haven't particularly enjoyed. I'd much rather be working on this instead, lol. I still plan on posting this book in weekly installments, but there will probably be a similar longer wait time for the next book that follows after this.

Art for this book should be up on my home page the same time the chapters go up if anyone is interested in looking at it.

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(One)

Remy walked into the Med Labs, looking around for where Simone was being kept. A nurse saw him standing there and she gestured to the back where the intensive care beds were. He nodded his thanks and walked briskly there, hearing voices grow louder as he got closer.

He found a small group of people around a bed with the privacy curtain drawn. Asher was there with Maylee, Henry's backup if the big blue doctor was ever away. Maylee was Fallen's foster daughter and a Dognan half breed but in this house of mutants, she fit right in. She was a lovely cat girl, her lion's face more beautiful than frightening. She was a skilled physician in spite of her youth, blossoming well under Henry's private tutelage.

A nurse stood nearby, pouring water into a cup. Max, one of Logan's security people, stood guard just there as well, his arms crossed and watchful. Remy had expected Asher to be here, it was his job to keep the distressed in line, and he had been the one who had just called him to come down. The guard was a surprise, but then Simone had supposedly been shot. What was missing here was Rogue.

Remy came to Asher and embraced him, giving him the usual kiss. Asher was a sight to behold. He was a Siskan dressed in the skin of a centaur youth, a fifteen year old at best on hooves. He was passive as he always was, his shine vibrating a serenity that few Siskans held. It made him seem saintly or holy in some way, something right in character with who he was -- he was, amongst many things, a devout Christian. He carried a Grey Mark on his chest, a compliment to his light silver hair and grey and brown brindle colored pony's body. He wore no clothing, just a large silver cross around his neck and a leather bag slung over one shoulder. The satchel contained his essentials – a Bible and his best friend Smee, a ferret like creature called a Mumbler. The Mumbler was something of a chatterbox, always offering comments from the peanut gallery, though today he was out of sight in the bag, probably curled up asleep for the moment.

Remy embraced this lovely Siskan who was always a delight to hold, all the while glancing in between a break in the privacy curtain around the bed. Simone was there, trembling and small, shivering under a heavy mound of blankets. He was quiet now, his eyes closed, but there was still a sheen of wetness on his cheeks from spent tears. His shine was ragged, the boy was deeply hurting.

Part of Kimble's empathic gift to Gambit was the ability to read people's shines. A person's shine, or aura, gave off colors that could be read to interpret their mood. In this case, Simone's shine was flickering brown and grey, revealing his intense fear and shock. Nothing angered Remy more than someone suggesting these Siskans were less than real. It was easy for some to simply dismiss them as being artful imitators of the living but Remy knew better. Even Rogue who once might have felt that way had done a complete reversal now that she was with Simone. All one had to do was spend real time with them to understand.

The thief wanted so very much to let the Siskan know how he felt, that he still loved him even though he'd never been let close. That he would do anything in his power to see Simone was safe and kept from harm. That seeing him all broken and sad was breaking his own heart as well. He couldn't do it, though. Simone had never let him.

Remy turned to Asher and asked, "How's 'e doin'?"

"Better than he wuz. We wants ta gives him a tonic but he keeps refusin' till his Mistress comes. He wouldn't lets me gives him a treatment neither."

Like Aiden, Asher had the Morrowhiem glitter as one of his many talents. Unlike Aiden, however, Asher's Morrowhiem was much more potent when used on another Siskan. It acted as a chemical reset and could smooth out an unbalanced or crashing Siskan. It would have been automatic for Asher to have used it on any other Siskan that had come into the Med Lab like this but Simone was a special case. He didn't always handle the treatments well and so Asher was reluctant to push it if Simone didn't want it, no matter what shape he was in.

"What happened?"

"He still won't say. All I knows is I found him all shot up in his Mistress's apartment. I don't knows fer shure that he was shot there, it shure didn't look like no fight happened there, but he wuz too messed up to go real far neither so I ain't gots one real clue what went on. I brung him here and had Neal repair him. The bullets come out and I saved them fer you guys ta looks at. He's been like this ever since the repair, not saying one single word. He should be better than this now that the injury is fixed, but he ain't. He's grievin' but I don't have one clue why, it's not like his Mistress was hurt."

"Where's Rogue?"

At the mention of her name, Simone's eyes flickered open. He was looking at the thief now, an unreadable expression on his face. His eyes were red and rimmed with pain. It was a bit surprising that he was even awake at all, most Siskans crashed under this much stress. He must be exhausted.

Gambit tried his best to reach him, sending out an empathic vibration he hoped Simone would read._**/ I love you, fils, I really do, no matter what you might t'ink of me. I care about you and I'm gonna do whatever I can to help you. / **_

It wasn't a lie, Remy loved all the Siskans and now, after the Game, there were so few of them left. They were so very precious to him and he felt that they must be protected and cared for at all costs. He could only hope Simone would understand that from his simple empathic message.

Simone wasn't getting much of anything. He just blinked at him and continued to shiver without answering, not really believing. Simone was still stubbornly shutting him out. He would need more than empty words. It would take action.

If Asher was aware that anything had just passed between the pair, he gave no sign. Instead he was answering Remy's question, "I wuz hopin' she'd be comin' along with yous. She ain't been here since I brung him in."

"Scuze' moi?" Remy barked sharply in surprise. "She call me, say dat 'e was 'ere and fo' me to come look on 'im."

"I told her to call yous when I first tol' her he wuz down here. I expected her to come along after that, but she didn't ever shows up," Asher explained, trying to keep his voice down. He didn't want Simone to be any more upset than he already was. "She ain't come down once since she was told about him. I called you myself as soon as I heard you wuz back home again."

"She call me more dan two hours ago!" Remy snarled.

Asher moved them a pace away, the thief was being louder than he liked. "He's been healed, he ain't injured no more, but she needs to be here."

"Bien sur. I'll go get 'er," Remy promised, his eyes still meeting Simone's own. He'd been speaking to Asher, but the words were for the poor shattered Siskan on the bed. With that Remy turned and stomped out, having an idea already of where to look first.

His first guess was the correct one – he found her at the Bistro, seated at a small table in the back, a neat little row of upside down shot glasses stacked in front of her. She had been at this awhile and was quite drunk. Her head was down low, her eyes closed. It was a wonder they hadn't booted her out for being asleep. Perks of being a senior X-man, no doubt.

Remy had dated this girl a long time, long enough to know that poor Rogue had certain fears that she would never be able to dispel, the most potent one being that of loss. She had lost so much as a child, her whole family for one, when her mutation first broke out and she was forced to run away. Since then, commitment was so very difficult for her. If she claimed ownership of someone, that person could leave her or be taken away. It was best not to even go that far, her poor broken mind had told her, it was why relationships for her had never worked out. She never gave enough of herself to sustain them.

Well, she had practically begged for Simone and now he was hers. She had found someone who was unaffected by her mutation and was all over it. Remy couldn't complain too loudly, so far the relationship had been a good one for them both – Simone was really opening up and Rogue had been more like her old sassy self, not so sad and quiet anymore. It had been nice to see these changes, but Remy was damned if he was going to see the poor boy tossed through the wringer because the girl had still had issues to be worked out. Remy dumped himself into the seat across from her, shaking the table and the glasses stacked there.

Rogue's head snapped up with a drunken snort. She was severely trashed, her eyes unable to open fully. "Remy? S'zat you?"

"What you doin' 'ere, chere?" he asked, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. He drummed his fingers on the table, impatient now.

"Waitin'..." she slurred, too drunk to notice his irritation.

Remy arched an eyebrow at her unconventional response. "Waitin' fo' what exactly?"

She shrugged sloppily. "Ah don' know. When Ah heard Simone was hurt Ah didn't know what to do so Ah came here. Ah guess, Ah guess ta try an' figure it all out... What Ah should do..."

"What you should do? Aw, chere...!" he chided harshly, standing as he tried to control his anger. What she should have done was blatantly obvious, but what she had done instead was what she always did – she ran. She ran when it got tough and left her lover hanging. Remy had dealt with this when they had dated and it had nearly broke him. He'd had the sense to walk away, but that was an option Simone simply didn't have - he was Siskan and for better or worse he was now her property. There was nowhere else for him to go.

Remy grabbed at his former girlfriend and hauled her drunken ass to her feet, none too gently. He dug in a pocket, tossed a rumpled twenty on the table, and then dragged her along, out the door and out in the hall. He was trying to be careful though it didn't seem so to the casual observer. He was doing his best to make his point, but at the same time was trying to keep his hands from charging her clothes in his fury. He couldn't believe she had done this thing, that she had left Simone hanging like that. There was no telling what it had done to him. Like Kimble, Simone was already shattered, disjointed into three personalities, and this was the sort of thing that could shatter him further.

He dragged Rogue down the hallways and in the elevators, ignoring her mumbled, drunken protests the whole way. Folks who saw them got out of their way, there was no mistaking Remy's anger or the cause of it. All the way down to the Lab he went, never slowing, not until he had her standing in front of Simone's bed. He never even paused, not even when he saw Logan there waiting for them, leaning on crutches, the wheelchair no longer needed now, an unreadable look of irritation on his face.

--..--..--..--..--..--..--

Gambit walked past Logan without comment, he had no time for the guy, not just now, and brought Rogue up to Simone's bed. He yanked the privacy curtain aside. "Simone, yo' Mistress is 'ere."

Simone blinked up at her, his eyes full of pain and woe. He had been fighting his exhaustion and fear, waiting for this. Waiting for her. "Mistress...!" he gasped, his hand twitching towards her, too heavy to raise. There were no accusations of neglect, of having been left stranded all these hours. He gave no complaints. All he wanted was her arms around him.

"Oh, baby..." she sobbed, breaking down at the sight of him. She stumbled towards him and fell into his waiting arms, granting his only wish and holding him tightly. She wriggled, shamelessly getting up onto the bed and under the blankets, all the better to get that much closer. They curled around one another, arms and legs and wings. Once together, Rogue had no more uncertainties about what to do. She gave him comfort and love without hesitation. Simone sobbed once himself but shuddered with relief, happy now.

Instead of giving him the usual brush off, Simone's eyes met Remy's once more and this time with meaning. He sent a powerful vibration of gratitude, _**/ Thank ya.**__** / **_

Remy's heart soared, it was the first time Simone had addressed him this way, or even directly for that matter. He couldn't help but beam his largest smile of happiness down on the boy. _**/ Pas de quoi, fils. Any time.**__** /**_

Simone's eyes fell shut and he relaxed, having now what he had so desperately needed. Remy stepped back, unable to hide the huge smile that crossed his face. As much as Rogue had infuriated him, that one small vibration of thanks from Simone had made it all worth it.

"Toldja it would just takes some time," Asher whispered to him. "You done right ta never gives up on him. Just like I knew ya would... Nebannon."

Remy began to sputter his usual protests at the nickname he felt he did not deserve – Nebannon meant "beloved" or something "highly cherished" in Siskan. In spite of all the work he had done with his Siskan friends -- getting them out of trouble and keeping them managed -- he still felt he hadn't earned such a serious moniker. Unfortunately for him, the Siskans wouldn't let it go.

Of course Asher still considered Remy his Master on paper if not in practice. Remy had done much for him –– Remy had been the one to get him his cell phone and his apartment which had to be custom designed for his special needs. Remy hadn't thought twice about doing it, he handled it the same as he would have for any of his Siskans, but it meant everything to Asher who had really needed his help.

Remy hadn't gotten two words out of his mouth before Logan spoke up and cut him off. Logan had been standing there, watching all this with rising impatience. He'd had a busy day, one that never seemed to end. After Remy had left the meeting, Logan had stayed behind with Fury to try and get the man to agree that they should go right back in. The situation there had looked pretty desperate.

Fury had agreed quick action was needed, but his idea of quick wasn't the same as Logan's. Fury wanted at least a week to set up an assault team to go in there and rush the island. He also had other concerns – how would that team then get there? It's not like Frost was just going to offer them a free ride. And then how would they get back if Frost escaped? Fury didn't want that Honey anywhere near his guys, not with its addictive properties. All this would have to be ironed out.

Logan was forced to agree but he wasn't happy about it. He left, heading for the shower and a hot meal. He had no sooner got a bite to eat when he was informed about Simone. Now here he was in the Med Bay when he'd much rather be in bed getting some much needed rest.

He had been annoyed at first when Remy had come back with Rogue and brushed by him with no respect. What had happened after that had done nothing to improve that feeling. Logan was a man capable of perceiving things on so many levels. He hadn't heard the message that had been sent from Simone to Gambit but he smelled the chemical change in the thief, heard the rush of his heart as the elation took him. It bugged Logan, not because he was in any way jealous, it was the fact that he felt left out. It would have annoyed him just the same whether the message had been telepathic or empathic, it was the idea of having missed out on something. Who knew if it might be important later? Secrets, how he hated them down to his very core.

Logan growled, "Before the kid falls asleep, I've got some questions to ask."

"He needs ta rest," Asher replied to that, keeping his voice even. He could see Logan was agitated. Asher had learned early that the best way to deal with Logan was to speak in soothing, calm tones without arguing. Even now he wasn't resisting, just making his opinion heard.

Logan accepted that and didn't bicker, he simply lowered his own tone without backing down. "The guy got shot right here in house and I need to know why. I ain't leavin' till I speak to him."

Asher nodded, seeing the man was all business, and went back to the bed. At first he was certain Simone and Rogue were now asleep but Rogue's eyes opened to look at him when he came up close. Asher spoke to her, "Logan is here. He needs ta speaks with Simone 'bout what happened. It's real important in case he needs ta do sumpthin' to help keeps us all safe."

Logan grunted in soft surprise at that, appreciating that Asher understood what was on his mind without having it explained directly. Sometimes these Siskans had their uses after all.

Rogue nodded to Asher's words and whispered to Simone softly now, asking him a question. Her head was in front of his, sideways with her ear to his lips, blocking the others from his view so he would feel safe. She knew that he was still shy around people and probably always would be. He rarely spoke directly to anyone these days, it was really only to Asher and Logan that he spoke to at all besides his Mistress. He would be more willing to give details if he felt he was alone with her and not in a crowd. "What happened, baby?" she asked, knowing it would be Logan's first question.

"Leroy's dead!" Simone answered, his cry of woe loud enough to be heard by the small crowd standing next to his bed.

Logan made another soft sound at the name. The little goat man from Twilight had the same name -- was it a coincidence?

Just as Logan had noticed the change in Remy's mood before, now the thief Remy caught the sudden change in Logan's own shine. What was that about? Both men knew that these days there was very little in the way of coincidence. Something much larger was going on here, they could both sense that feeling of impending action and trouble.

"Who's Leroy, Sugah?" Rogue questioned next, rubbing her cheek against his, feeling the wet of his tears against her own skin.

In halting words that Rogue relayed to the others, Simone began to explain.

Simone was unique like all the Siskans of the Game and had his own special talent. He could create doors that opened to other worlds. He had discovered this quite by accident. He had been given a horrific beating by his former Master, Ebon, when it had happened the first time. Laying on the floor in his misery, a strange lucid dream came upon him. He had seen the door shimmer into view and when it had opened, he had seen the lovely yum-yum flowers and the smelled the magic air of Twilight. It wasn't long after that he had met Leroy and they soon became fast friends.

They visited often though Simone was too shy to consider going through the door himself. It wasn't until Leroy had told him he was in trouble that Simone found the courage to help out his longtime friend and cross over.

"You never once noticed Simone was gone?" Logan asked Rogue a bit sharply. It was her job to look after him after all and it was sounding like she hadn't done the best of jobs.

Rogue squinted at him, not liking his tone. She sputtered excuses like a teenager caught by an overbearing father. "You know we been workin' on his independence. Ah been giving him chores to do while Ah work them short shifts. Ah didn't ever leave him for long."

It was true that they had been working on Simone's ability to integrate from his sheltered life and out into the world. He was no longer kept in a holding cell as he had been when he first came to be with them. He had moved in with Rogue and was learning new things all the time – how to cook, how to clean, and the use of the gym and the Solarium. Progress was slow but it had been made.

Logan seemed doubtful, he measured progress in other ways, and expressed his displeasure with an arrogant grunt. "Right."

Simone growled then, long and deep and low, a warning to Logan. He had come a long way, but he still had some feral tendencies, he didn't like that Rogue was now feeling defensive because of something he had done. He spoke again and Rogue sent along this message, "Simone says time is different there. He could be with Leroy for an hour but he'd only be gone just a couple of minutes from here. He always made sure he done it when Ah was gone so Ah wouldn't miss him and be worried about him."

Logan calmed some at that. I was true - the time he'd spent in Twilight had been significantly longer than the time he had supposedly been gone. Although Simone hadn't gone far into his tale, Logan had already jumped to the conclusion that his Leroy and Simone's were one and the same. Simone had been to Twilight. "All right. What happened when he went through the door?"

Simone resumed his story – once there, Leroy explained to him his trouble. This fellow Frost had come to the island one day by himself, claiming to have come from Otherworld. Leroy was wise in many things and knew that while that was true, it was only partially so. It might have been his place of origin, but Twilight was not the first world that Frost had been to. He had that air about him, of how the strangeness of the island was not only unsurprising, but somehow expected.

At first Frost seemed pleasant and unassuming, asking questions about the island and the plant life. Leroy had been alone there for years and rather liked the company so he was eager to answer. It wasn't until it was too late that he realized his mistake. Frost was there looking for anything he could exploit and with the Honey he had hit the jackpot. It didn't take long before Frost was moving in and taking over. It started with one or two buildings but before long, there was a small town just inside the woods, built up quickly with the help of Frost's imported mutant slave labor.

Frost tried to be nice at first, offering Leroy riches, but Leroy had no use for such things, not here on Twilight. He couldn't leave so travel was no option. Leroy had been willing enough to give Frost small and reasonable amounts of Honey -- enough for Frost's own personal use -- but Frost wanted more. A lot more.

Frost, frustrated that being nice wasn't getting him the amount of Honey he wanted, sent his servant instead to pass on his offers – the one the others called Little Julie One Hand behind his back because he was crippled and weak. Little Julie One Hand was special and different, he had come with Frost from the first days, he hadn't been newly conscripted like most of the kids Frost was using now. The mutant kids hated him, they felt he had sold out by working for Frost and couldn't abide his presence. Somehow Frost had come to this idea that sending this weakling might appeal to Leroy in some way. It didn't work.

Logan perked up at that. "What else did Leroy say about this kid?"

Simone's soft whispers came and Rogue repeated, "Not much. This Julie kid only came to see him only a couple of times. When he did the boy was soft spoken and almost seemed scared though he tried to act tough. Later, Leroy snuck into their town and spied on them. He said he seen Julie by the small shacks where the prisoners were held. There was a girl in one of them that Julie would go and see. He was tryin' to get her to speak with him, but she never said a word. Leroy only knew she was there because Julie kept pleadin' with her to forgive him for something he done. But she never did."

Spying on the town didn't garner Leroy any solutions to his troubles. All he saw was a growing army of people he had no defense against. He didn't know what to do. He was no fighter and with his small stature, wasn't a threat to anyone, certainty not these men with their guns. He had no choice but to turn to his one true friend – Simone.

Simone wasn't sure himself what to do, once Leroy had explained his predicament. The problem was simple enough though, Leroy needed someone strong to protect the flowers. Simone agreed to help out and fell back on what he knew best – being noisy and loud. Frost's men, being in a new environment they knew nothing about, were easily frightened by Simone's impressive displays.

Simone did not have to describe his antics to this crowd. When he had first come to the Complex he had been as raw and feral as they came. He shouted and fought ferociously, letting nothing come in his way between him and those he wanted to intimidate. No one had been immune, he'd gone after anyone who came close, snarling and biting and clawing at them with his hands. It was only Rogue's own loneliness that had called to him and eventually gotten him out of his shell.

For two months Simone defended Leroy and amazingly, got away with it though he was no real fighter himself. It helped that Simone was big and black and scary looking all on his own even without his noise and bluster. He did learn some things about himself – he figured out that by flapping his wings he could sort of fly, his underweight Siskan body coming to his advantage by allowing his big feathered wings to give him some lift. All the Siskans were lighter than real humans, it was part of their chemical makeup and it served him well here. He would leap about wildly into the air in big bounds, waving tree branches and shouting. His loud and boisterous displays were enough to earn him the nickname of "Demon of the Field". It was an ego boost and greatly helped his self esteem.

"Ah seen the changes in him," Rogue continued in her own words, looking at the small crowd. "Ah just thought it was because he had me now to look after him. That it was because he was loved."

"I'm shure that had a lot ta do with it anyhow," Asher was quick to reassure, hearing a tone of jealousy in her voice. She had wanted the improvements to come from her love and nothing else.

Rogue bowed her head as one of Simone's slender black hands cupped her chin and he leaned closer to kiss her cheek. What he whispered to her next was soft and low and for her alone, but whatever it was, it made her smile.

"So how did he get shot?" Logan questioned, wanting to get back on the subject. He had been patient so far, but while this tale helped him with Frost, it still didn't exactly explain how Simone had gotten injured here in the Complex.

Simone went on to say that this last trip out to Twilight he had done the usual things – shouting and flying about and all that, but this time Frost's men had had enough. The regular guards had been lousy shots with their single shot rifles and cheap handguns, something Simone had taken advantage of. He had been able to dodge and keep moving enough that he was never struck, not even close. This last time Frost had upped the ante. While Simone was keeping the regulars busy, a new recruit to the gang had crept along quiet and the first moment Simone gave an opening, the guy came out of hiding and sprayed him with bullets from a high powered automatic rifle.

Simone hadn't stood a chance. He was torn apart and bleeding, hardly able to conjure a door in time for his own defense. The last thing he'd seen was Leroy trying to come to his aid and being snatched up by Frost's guards. Now he was certain Leroy was dead. Why would they even keep him alive? He stood in the way of what Frost wanted.

Logan just grinned. "Tell Simone that if he makes a door fer me, right here right now, provin' his story, I'll tell him somethin' that's gonna make him feel a whole lot better."

--..--..--..--..--..--..--

Rogue sat up a little as Simone ducked his head down just enough that his silver eyes could find Logan's own. The Siskan had heard something in Logan's voice that had caught his attention. He blinked at Logan, looking for deception. "No foolin'?"

"I wouldn't fuck with ya kid. Not like that."

"All right," Simone agreed and closed his eyes.

Remy stood as he was, trying to bite down a rising jealousy. Always Logan had been critical of the pet Siskans in this place, calling them little kids or perverts or whatever. But here was the harsh and judgmental Wolverine himself having a special moment with a Siskan that Gambit, who prided himself on being the Siskan expert, had extreme difficulty in reaching. Not only was Simone appearing to honor Logan's request – Remy didn't actually see any magic doors appearing just yet – but Simone had spoken to the guy directly, something he had never done with the thief, not besides that one brief empathic message. If anything, Simone should have been speaking to him, not the gruff Wolverine who held these Siskans in such low regard. It was almost unfair. Still Remy kept his hurt inside, watching the goings on – or lack thereof – with aloof curiosity.

Remy might not have seen anything, but Wolverine was certainly getting an eyeful. Logan stepped back in astonishment and turned to one side as he saw a door shimmer and then wisp into view beside him. It did catch his attention that no one else here responded to it and he realized immediately that they weren't even seeing it at all. Still, he had to ask, "Anyone else seein' this?"

"Seein' what?" Asher asked before Remy could. Asher was perceptive of many things that others were not, but even he saw nothing.

"There's a door right here," Logan answered, reaching out to touch it with his hand. As his fingers brushed the hard wood of the frame, the door swung open invitingly. Logan closed his eyes for a moment as a fresh rush of Honey scented air blew in, reminding him of his recent adventure. The door had opened out onto the field of flowers and Logan looked through. He could see Frost's men on horseback, still watching over the flowers. The same way none of the others here in the room could see the doorway Simone had just made, none of Frost's guards on the other side reacted to it either, though one passed by closely as he patrolled.

"What's that smell?" Rogue was asking, confused.

"It's Honey," Logan answered. "It's coming from the flowers right there."

"What flowers?"

Logan shook his head in irritation. This was going to be a problem.

Remy took a deep breath of the sweet scented air. He could smell the Honey as Rogue had but still didn't see the actual door though he believed it had to be there. Logan wasn't one to playact or make up stories. Gambit did take a step back however as a small fluttering brown moth suddenly winked into existence as if from thin air and came bumbling lazily towards him. He showed his superior agility by skillfully catching the moth with cupped hands, not damaging it all. "Seen dese before, though," he said, unable to keep the wonder out of his voice. "Dey always aroun' Simone's cell when 'e was in 'olding."

Logan nodded, recognizing them now as well. "Now we know where they came from. Henry will be so relieved. He was splitting his head open trying to figure out how they were getting in." He turned back to Simone. "Got any idea why I can see the door and no one else here can?"

Simone's voice was scratchy and low, his Rogue's voice so much like Kimble's own. "I ain't got one clue."

Remy just laughed. "Non, but I do."

"How's that?"

Remy released the moth, watching as it fluttered about fearlessly. "I could be wrong but mebbe it cause you already been dere an come back. Mebbe it cause of de 'Oney you drank. It did change you, just for a little little bit. Mebbe it connect you now."

"Now those are some right smart ideas there, Cajun. Goes to show there's more goin' on inside that pretty head of yers then ya let on," Logan teased, his smile more than a little ironic. It was easy to forget how smart the kid was sometimes. He looked back at Simone. "What are the chances that I can go through this door and back?"

It was an excellent question. If this worked, maybe a whole team could pass through safely – maybe even Fury's team and himself.

Simone blinked at him. "Don't knows. But you'd be takin' a real chance. Them's some real bad people there."

Logan just grinned and fearlessly took a step forward, being careful to only go halfway through the doorway Simone had made. He was reckless sure, but not completely stupid.

"Espere!" Remy challenged, amazed that Logan would be so idiotic. He'd barely made it back alive just a couple of hours ago, now he was ready to go right back again, the stubborn fool. "Wait just a minute, patron!"

Logan turned as Remy snatched at him and then paused, half in and half out, at the wonder that suddenly crossed the thief's face. The boy wasn't looking at him, he was looking over his shoulder at the flowers, at Twilight itself. "Sacre merde...!" Remy breathed, his eyes open wide.

"You see it now?" Logan asked, humor in his voice.

"Oui. It so beautiful..." Remy cut off his own sentence, suddenly jerking them both down low to the ground, almost spilling Logan all the way through the door in his haste. Another guard had patrolled by and had only just missed them, the thief's quick action keeping them from being seen – or so he had thought.

"Easy, Cajun!" Logan complained, keeping his voice low. "I don't think they can see us until we're all the way in." He was only guessing of course, but the truth was, while Remy may have pulled them low and out of sight behind some shrubbery, the doorway itself was still tall and visible. The guard hadn't reacted at all and he would have if he could see the doorway itself.

Gambit slowly stood up, giving Logan an assist on the way up. He was still looking out into the strange world of Twilight, finding it lovely. The flowers and the moths fluttering about looked so peaceful. Of course, at this moment, the field was empty of mutant slave labor, they had done their chores and left for the day. He hadn't seen the town and the children being abused and mistreated.

Logan, however, had forgotten none of it. He gave Remy a gentle nudge out the door and back into the Med Labs before questioning Simone again, "Can you make this door anytime?"

Simone blinked at him and nodded. "Uh, huh."

"And you can make it from there and back, too?"

"Yeah."

"Simone, buddy. Yer my new best friend."

"You can't be serious!" Rogue said sharply, getting to her feet. She had sobered some but was still woozy, slurring a bit as she challenged, "Don't you even think about takin' him anywhere!"

"You tell me, Simone," Logan argued over her shoulder. "If I told you we could get Leroy out of there alive would you go? Cause I spoke to the guy myself. He's locked up and bit bumped around, but he's still alive."

"Yes," the Siskan answered without hesitation, his eyes bright with hope. He never doubted Logan was telling the truth. Leroy was still alive. "But he already tole me he cain't leaves the island. It would kill him, he said."

"That's just fine. It's Frost I want anyhow."

"You'll still need Fury's help," Remy interjected raising a finger. "Dere's a lotta guys dere. Plus he'll get all pissed you goan' in dere wit'out 'im."

Logan just smiled his wolfish grin. "Don't you worry about that, son. I have my ways. Just give me a day or so and I'll have this all worked out."

"Bien, I wanna take a run to Boston anyhow, see if I can figure out what dat picture you found have to do wit' anyt'ing."

"Then pack yer bags, but don't be stayin' long."

Remy nodded and walked out, already on his way.


	2. Chapter 2

Notes: Howdy! Thanks again to everyone who reviewed. It's always a pleasure to hear from you guys.

I am going to apologize now for any delays that may follow this post – I must confess to being distracted by a new toy. I bought a Kindle Ebook reader from Amazon and I'm totally smitten. Anyone who is an avid reader seriously needs to check out this device, it's the coolest of the cool, I swear, lol. I will try to be responsible and keep my posts on time, but if I get lost, just send out book shaped bread crumbs and I'll come out of hiding I promise. :D

Art for this chapter is up at my website for anyone interested in looking at it.

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(Two)

Remy walked up the ramp of the Dragon 2, cursing softly the lateness of the hour. It was now almost two in the morning and there was still so much to do. He wanted to get to Boston as soon as possible, knowing that unlike most other mortals, Thieves never slept.

Remy had once belonged to one of the most prominent Thieves' Guilds in the world, one run by his adopted father, Jean-Luc LeBeau. Jean-Luc had taken Remy in as a child and raised him as his own. Later, he had wanted to hand the Guild over to him, but Jean-Luc's own son, Henri, had other plans. When Jean-Luc died, Henri made it clear he wasn't going to tolerate Remy being the Boss without having anything to say about it. Remy had walked away without a fuss, he had never wanted the Guild in spite of Jean-Luc's intentions.

There were others though, who were not so happy with Henri being in charge. The one with the biggest clout and the loudest complaints was Etienne, Remy's cousin. Etienne wasn't up to a Guild war either, so instead he took his closest followers and set up shop in Boston. He was smart enough to take with him the best and the brightest of the young talented Thieves and was, so far, doing a great job of running Henri out of business, taking his best clients simply by providing much better service at better prices. Shrewd was Etienne and very wise.

Gambit had been out to see Etienne in Boston a few times since the Guild split but it had been a while. He had more than a few reasons to go –- one, they had been close as kids, and two, Etienne had brought Tante Mattie up with him, the woman Remy would always consider to be his mother. He had missed her and had brought the twins up to see her a couple of times already.

Remy made sure to call ahead before he even entered the Dragon 2, it was late at night there and it wouldn't take long for him to fly the distance. Etienne, like most Thieves of the Guild, was wide awake in spite of the late hour and more than happy to receive him. He was already setting up guest rooms before their quick conversation was over.

Remy walked into the Main Room of the Dragon 2, pausing in mid stride to smile at what he saw. The boys had gone on ahead as he had commanded and set up the ship, but Remy hadn't expected to be delayed. He'd taken longer than he had anticipated with Simone and had forgotten to check back with them and let them know he would be late. That was okay, his dutiful Siskans had waited up for him. Well, Aiden had anyhow. Kimble was out cold on his pilot stick, laying back, covered with a warm fleece blanket, snoring away.

Aiden was sitting on the floor beside his lover, a game of solitaire about half finished. Aiden didn't sleep as much as Kimble did and so had found a way to amuse himself. He smiled as he saw Remy come into the room.

"You are late."

"Je suis de'sole, duty call me away."

"It all right, juszt do not let it 'appen again, neh? Szo many oder, better t'ingsz me and ze Keemble could 'ave been doing," Aiden teased suggestively, not the least bit put out.

Gambit didn't take the bait, instead he looked down on Kimble's face, smiling with happy memories. " 'E still snores."

Many long years ago, before Gambit had married Molly, he and Kimble had briefly shared a bed. It was an inevitability considering their strong bonding and the strong sexual natures of both men, but it hadn't lasted. Kimble was a needy creature and Remy was used to more independent partners. Coupled with Kimble's low hum of melancholy -- a side of effect of his having been shattered mentally and then sloppily repaired – was more than Remy could take for long. Plus, there was one thing that Remy had wanted most that Kimble could never provide – a family of his own. Kimble had accepted Gambit's withdrawal gracefully, he was Siskan after all and had only wanted Gambit's happiness. Kimble's memory was perfect and Remy had given him plenty of pleasant recollections to call upon whenever he wished.

Back on the Dragon 2, Aiden grinned at Gambit now, his smile all affection. "I like 'isz noisze. It comfortsz me. Why you szo late?"

"I had to see Simone."

" 'E isz well?"

"Better now."

"Zat isz good. Ashair will keep good watch over him."

_So will his Mistress_, Remy thought, but didn't give voice to it. He didn't want to argue. Instead he smiled down on the sleeping pilot and said, "I almost 'ate to wake 'im."

"It isz all right, 'e been aszleep for a while now," Aiden replied, already packing up his unfinished card game and getting to his feet. He stood over Kimble and leaned over to kiss his lover's lips, a gentle awakening. It was also a display of possession though there was no open jealousy between Aiden and Remy. Kimble had changed hands forever and nothing was going to change that. Gambit stepped back, giving way with no hard feelings, and sat on his own stick, getting ready to leave.

Kimble mumbled something without opening his eyes, his shine all sparkly and bright with love and happiness. He wasn't the least bit upset at being woken up, at least not by so sweet a kiss. Aiden laughed and whispered a reply, something that had Kimble opening his eyes a little bit more. He sat up drunkenly, rubbing his eyes and trying to wake up more fully. He saw Remy there and smiled. "Hey."

"Bon jour, lazybones," Remy teased, his eyes merry. It was always nice to see Kimble happy. "You ready to fly or what?"

"Shure," Kimble answered, straightening up, all business now. "Where we off to this time?"

"Boston," Gambit said, but paused when he saw a strange look cross Kimble's face. "What?"

"They gots real good steamed clams there. Mary liked them best."

Remy did not immediately reply. A long time ago, Kimble had been stolen from him and was gone almost an entire year. Kimble had been sneaking away from the Xavier Mansion back in Westchester looking for sex and got far more than he had bargained for. He'd been kidnapped and misused, becoming a shattered wreck before Remy finally caught up with him and brought him back home. Mary Green had been one of his kidnappers. Kimble rarely spoke of that stolen year, so many terrible things had happened to him then, but every once in a great while though, Kimble would let slip some offhand reminder of that lost year. It was odd though, in a nice way, to hear Kimble speak of it so positively.

"We get dere in good time, mebbe we see what we see, eh?" Gambit said to that, not wanting to dredge up anything painful by asking Kimble the particulars of how he had eaten something Gambit had never served him. "Etienne got a great cook last I knew."

"Sumpthin' ta looks forward to, then."

Remy nodded and went back to work, conscious of the fact that Aiden was slow to take his seat. Aiden knew that Kimble had been taken as well, but it had happened before they had met. Aiden was a little confused about the odd conversation that had just taken place, but he let it go, settling down in his seat and saying nothing more about it as they made their way across country.

Remy had never flown the Dragon 2 to Boston but he been flown in Fallen's Lucky Dragon so he knew the way by flight. Etienne, ever a LeBeau, had purchased for himself a huge sprawling hundred room mansion there to run his operations out of. The grounds were at least twenty acres wide and the red brick house set back well from the road. Etienne was posing as an investment banker who was doing well and he played the part with gusto, indulging in many luxuries. Remy had Kimble set the Dragon 2 down on the front lawn very close to Etienne's bright red Porche and a sparkling silver Hummer limousine.

The man himself was waiting for them outside as they landed, ever the gracious host. He was a tall blonde aristocrat dressed in a full Thieves' black even though it was now well past three in the morning and bit late for an actual score. The uniform included a long black coat and body armor similar to Remy's own, showing they had indeed come from the same place. He was a couple years older than Remy, not that it showed much. His smile was broad as his eyes were blue and held no guile. He was thrilled by this visit.

Remy came down the ramp and was happy to let Etienne give him a full and eager embrace. They had been close as kids, growing up romping and proud in Jean-Luc's huge New Orleans compound, having adventures and getting into all sorts of delightful trouble.

Etienne stepped out of his embrace and looked over Remy's shoulder to the two men who had followed him out. His voice was smooth and light, sharing Remy's same Cajun accent as he questioned, "T'ought you said you only need two rooms for de night, homme. You pick up a stowaway?"

"Non, two be just fine. Dese two be married. Dis is Kimble and Aiden, m' flight crew."

Aiden, easily the proudest of the pair, smiled happily at having his marital status upheld in mixed company, but Kimble had blanched a little where he stood and dropped his eyes. He was still shy and nervous about how other people thought of him, something that wasn't likely to change anytime soon. His open and free sexuality had made him a target in the past, something he had never forgotten. It had been a while since he was out with people who didn't belong to the Complex and he felt a bit overexposed by what Remy had said.

Remy hadn't thought twice about mentioning they were a couple for a good reason, he knew Etienne could care less and he was right. Etienne wasn't the least bit fazed by it, he was all about work as he asked, "Dat's fine, den. De rooms all set up, you guys wanna crash now or you ready to work? Already got some info'mation back on dat name you give me."

Gambit grinned, wide awake now. "I'd love to see what you got, but m' boy's are pretty tired. 'Ungry, too. T'ink mebbe you get one of yo' guys to whip up some steamed clams and chowder for 'em?"

"No problem. Tony's de bes' I got an' he always ready to feed anyone who ask."

"Bien, just tell 'im to keep de portions small. Dey eat like little kids, my boys."

Etienne nodded, taking a deeper look at the pair as if really seeing them for the first time. He took in their other worldliness and large tattoos. "Dey like Skye, ain't dey?"

Long ago, before Remy had really understood what the Game was fully about, had come across Skye, a Rogue of the Game, though he hadn't known it at the time. Remy wanted to keep Skye somewhere safe but not too close to Kimble who was still recovering from his lost year. Remy had given Skye to Etienne for safekeeping and he had stayed just long enough for Etienne, who was no one's fool, to know there was something less than human about the guy.

"Oui, dey like Skye," Remy answered, his voice a little sad. "Only dey ain't nearly so bad."

..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..--

Skye, that Siskan devil, was on someone else's mind as well besides Remy's.

Logan, restless, walked down the short hallway of cells that comprised the Complex's high security jail. He'd had another long nap and felt better, but couldn't get his mind off of making plans for his next visit to Twilight.

He had a lot to consider – he now had the means to get to Twilight and back, but any good planner has to have more than just plan A. If something should happen to Simone on Twilight, he had to be able to get his team home in one piece. There was the Honey/moth express, but it would kill almost any mutant who tried it. That is, unless they were healers like himself.

Logan just happened to have a couple of those on hand, though they would need a real short leash. Three of these cells were currently occupied, though only two had any immediate interest for him. The third held Skye, a Siskan too sexually corrupt to ever have free out in the world ever again. He could stay in his cell and rot forever for all Logan cared.

Any good Siskan Courtesan worth his salt loved to please clients. Skye had been so badly damaged by repeated meltings and abuse by the Siskan Maker, Quishnalay, that his concept of just what a client was had been horribly marred. He used his powerful empathy and healing magic to enslave his clients, bending them to his will and making them perform any task he desired, no matter how repugnant. He even went so far as to murder and eat some of them, a kind of cannibalism though he wasn't of the flesh himself.

Skye, in his travels, had managed to secure two very powerful clients to serve him and used them as weapons in the Game, using them to slay the terrorist, Jael, and ending the Game forever. Both of them were here now in X-men custody and it was those two clients that interested Logan now.

The first cell Logan came to held Kyle Kibney, a young man of many names. He'd once been Wild Child, a Weapon X reject. The program had taken an ordinary teenaged boy and chemically altered his DNA, giving him a healing factor and a feral mentality. It had backfired terribly, he'd become as savage and vicious as Sabretooth, a notorious killer already in the program. Unlike Sabretooth, Wild Child simply would not obey – he broke out of the training facility only to reap havoc on the nearby town, raping and slaughtering as many people he could catch, devouring his kills and rolling in their blood. He was later deemed a waste of time and dumped into a cell to rot.

It was there that Jael found him and took him for his own. Kyle then become Grog, a cannibalistic waste disposal machine of sorts for Jael, who had gleefully fed him anyone he wanted to get rid of. Grog embraced his job with gusto, consuming whomever he was fed with wanton and savage glee. Later, after Jael had tired of him and stripped him of his healing powers, Skye had come to his rescue.

Skye used his healing ability not only to restore the boy back to health, but to hold him in thrall. He was Skye's little lion and so had been named Famayalin, "Little Lion" in Siskan. Never having felt much love in his entire wretched life, Kyle had fallen and fallen hard for Skye's false promises of love and joy. He would do anything Skye asked of him. He had no idea that Skye's heart was much too hard and cruel to ever love anyone properly.

Now that the Game was over and Skye and Kyle were in custody, folks here had been working with Kyle, giving him back his name and trying to help him break free of Skye's hold on him in the hope that he might some day be rehabilitated. Asher had a huge hand in that, something that could be readily seen.

Even though the hour was late, Kyle was up, sitting at a small desk in his cell, reading a book, something Logan would never thought he'd ever see if you'd asked him just a short while ago. Perched on Kyle's lap was a huge orange tabby, purring happy as it was petted by one of the boy's small clawed hands.

"Surprised you ain't eaten that fat cat yet," Logan teased, not unkindly.

Kyle lay down his book and looked over his shoulder, his pale green eyes squinting as he tried to determine the level of humor in that comment. There was little love lost between these two though they had made some sort of peace. They shared a long and painful history, one both men were still trying to sort out. Logan had been doing his fair share of the work, coming to visit Kyle on occasion and passing no more judgement on the boy.

Skye's magic had the ability to heal and even restore a fallen mutant's power, but it had side effects stronger than simple addiction - he could cause a secondary mutation in a client that was exposed to his power long enough. This boy would never be called pretty – his long face now had a short snout that allowed for his elongated fangs. Talking was hard for him, he tended to drown his words in half snarls and feral curses. His legs were bent at the knees, making upright walking difficult. He'd spent most of his time with Skye as a sort of lion like dog, trotting about on his hands and feet. He was trying to overcome that now, but it was hard going. Being incarcerated now, it seemed he had all the time in the world to correct that.

The cat that was currently warming his lap was named Cody and had been a gift from Asher. Many animals had been left orphans after the Game, casualties of war that got little recognition. Charles Xavier refused to euthanize any of them, though there were so many. Instead a sort of pound had been set up and the animals farmed out to anyone who was willing to care for them.

When Asher first suggested letting Kyle have a pet Logan was first to speak up. He failed to see how a feral freak like Kyle could take care of anything when he could hardly care for himself. Asher was so much wiser than that, saying that sometimes a person who had been messed with as badly as the kid had been sometimes needed something to love to help them open up. It had worked splendidly – Cody was well cared for and Kyle had come a long way back down the path towards humanity.

Kyle blinked at Logan through the long shag of his unruly blonde bangs and seeing the man was only joking, managed some sort of smile with his misshapen face. "Mrr!! H–h--ello...t'... you... too...eh?" he growled in greeting.

"What are we reading tonight?"

Rather than try to speak the title, Kyle simply held up the book. Wolverine was quite surprised to see it was one of the books Charles had written, a treatise on compassion and equality for all mankind, regardless of what they looked like. Charles was a man of many words, Logan had been unable to finish that particular book himself, it was wordy and complicated and hurt his brain though he sympathized with its general message. Logan was taken aback, he hadn't thought Kyle intelligent enough to even try such a book, never mind be so close to the end. He put Logan to shame, but then again, Logan had many other ways to kill time that Kyle did not.

Logan laughed rough amusement. "Having trouble falling asleep? I could have just asked the doc to give you a sedative instead."

Kyle snorted his own gruff chuckle and marked his place with a scrap of paper. "Why..why ...come s-see me? Mrr!! S-so late..."

Logan leaned against the back wall, getting comfortable. "What would you say if I said I could get you outta that cell? Just long enough to help me with something."

Kyle squinted again, his trust still somewhat grudgingly given. Kyle had grown comfortable with his limited space. He knew he was a mess mentally and wasn't sure himself just how far he could be trusted. The cell made everything safe. There was little need to have to curb his wilder tendencies simply because temptations no longer existed for him. He wasn't sure just what Logan was asking of him, if it was a test or not.

"Fuck the kid," came an even deeper voice from two doors down, the words clearer, but the low growl of it just as feral. The voice held gruff amusement as it continued to tease, "You can have me anytime, Logan. All ya gotta do is ask."

Logan closed his eyes, turning his head just slightly. "Keep it down, Creed."

"Name's Kris now. Kristalay. Somethin' wrong with yer memory, boy?"

Wolverine didn't dignify that with a response. That voice belonged to his half brother, Victor Creed, a man with more names than young Kyle had ever had. One of them was quite famous – Sabretooth. Sabretooth was the second of Skye's two clients, but he hadn't been for very long. Jael had also stripped him of his mutant powers, powers that Skye had given back. Unlike Kyle, Sabretooth was much too powerful a spirit to ever be in anyone's thrall for long. He had gotten what he wanted out of the deal – healing that gave him that ability take what he really wanted -- revenge on Jael for having stripped him down in the first place. Unlike Kyle who had been under Skye' care far longer, Sabretooth had been able to walk away from his former Master with few withdrawal symptoms beyond boredom and a bit of a headache. He hadn't been physically altered, just restored.

The name he favored now was a gift from a Siskan, but not from the freak who resided just down the hall. No, the name Kristalay had come from Kimble. Mary Green had help when she had kidnapped Kimble during that lost year of his, Sabretooth had been her boss at the time and the one who had ordered it. Like always, Sabretooth had left his own mark on those he spent enough time with. Kimble's fear of the phone had been a poor reward for giving Sabretooth such a lovely name – Kristalay meant Golden Hair in Siskan, appropriate since the man was as blonde as the young kid in the cell Logan was now looking in on.

Kimble had barely survived living with Kristalay, the man was a most brutal Master. It was Kristalay with his big fists and cruel disposition who had caused the worst of splits in Kimble's already fragile psyche, and yet with his big big heart, Kimble had forgiven the man, even loved him still, in his own way. The X-men, knowing this, had kept Kristalay as far away from Kimble as possible. No one was going let Kimble even consider going down that dark path again.

Logan didn't dignify Kristalay's last remark. "What do ya say, Kyle?" Logan asked the boy in front of him, using Kyle's given name as a lure. It was a ploy that Asher had started, a way of giving Kyle back to himself. He now belonged to one and no one was ever going to harm him again the way it had been done in the past. "You up for a little work?"

It worked, Wolverine could see the capitulation in Kyle's eyes. "What.. you... need?"

"I got a job, but it's one with a lot of risk. I need someone who can walk away from a real bad fight. Someone who ain't gonna be afraid."

"And...if...I ...mrr!! ..._**eat**_**.**...someone...?"

It was a legitimate question. The hardest thing for Kyle to overcome was his eating habits. Both Jael and Skye had indulged the boy, happily feeding him raw human meat and nothing else. Now Kyle struggled to eat anything he was fed here in captivity. It was down to barely cooked beef and yet, Kyle still at times gagged on it. It wasn't hot and red and fresh, it was cold and dead, like eating a rotted corpse. His struggle showed plainly, he was thin now and a bit ragged in his eyes. He was always starving and yet, he never complained. Even in his weakened state, he understood that he would win this battle eventually, it would just take time. Now Logan was throwing temptation right in his path.

Logan just grinned wickedly. "There ain't no one there I'm gonna cry over, son."

"All the more reason to take me along," came that voice from down the hall again. "Least you'll know I can get the job done, just like I done with Jael. That little squirt over there never even came close to the guy."

Kyle growled deep and low in his throat in response to the insult, as dangerous a sound there ever was. It hadn't been his fault that Kristalay got to Jael first, a reckless teleporter had been involved and well, you know how that goes. Shit just happens – that is, Kyle always getting the short end of it anyhow. "Mrr!! Fuck you, 'Tooth!" he snarled, showing more than a bit of fang. Cody, disturbed by the change in his Master's mood, dropped from the boy's lap and hid under the bed.

"Easy, fellas," Logan growled himself. "Nothing's been decided yet."

Kristalay just laughed, a dry sound like breaking bones. "That mean you ain't asked Chuck about this yet?"

Logan bristled, but Kristalay was right. Wolverine hadn't gone to see Xavier about this, not just yet. He wanted to work things out before bringing this to the boss. "No point in askin' the guy if no one's interested."

"I'm yer man, then. You want something done right, you bring me," Kristalay continued to try and persuade. "You know I'm just dyin' fer some air. I been good, so I have. Done everything you asked."

That was true. Kristalay had allowed himself to be caged and poked and prodded without causing a fuss, something unusual. Well, with Kristalay, determining what was normal was no easy feat. He had been worked over by two empathic Siskans – Kimble had actually shown signs of being able to help the guy control his rages, and Skye, well who knew what dark magic had been worked there? What was clear was that Kristalay hadn't tried to escape or do more than make crude jokes while he'd been here, something that never would have happened in the past.

"C-count...me...out!" Kyle hissed bitterly, turning away and slamming open his book, though he was clearly too agitated now to read.

Even as Skye's lions, these two had fought. Kyle had been with Skye first and saw Kristalay as nothing more than an interloper and a thief. It didn't matter that their Master was now denied to them both, Kyle was all too eager to blame Kristalay for all of it. Kyle's hunger ran deeper than just an empty belly. He still missed Skye's empathic love and gentle touch, even if he had only been used for what Skye had wanted. Love was a much more powerful tool than hate and Skye had known that well.

"Kyle, please," Logan dared to say. It was a word he used seldom, so it held some weight. "Just tell me you'll think about it. I could really use your help. It'll also look good on your record."

Kyle looked back at him, wanting to believe. He nodded just slightly. "Jus... jus... keep.. 'Tooth..away...from... me."

"Thanks," Logan replied, happy now, and walked out.

..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..--

Logan left the Complex's makeshift jail and headed back to his apartment. There was more he wanted to do to get ready for his run back to Twilight but since it was so late, it would just have to wait.

He entered his darkened apartment and being a creature of habit, took in a deep breath as soon as he closed the door behind him. He could smell the food his wife had cooked for supper and the mingled scents of his family as they slept. It was one of the most comforting smells in the world to him, especially now when he was still so tired.

Family. It was a word he hadn't thought he would ever associate with himself but now after all these long years it had finally happened. He used to cruise violently through life, never allowing himself to get attached to anyone. He hadn't wanted to have anything to lose. Karen had changed all that. She gradually altered his thinking, making him realize that with a family he had so much more to gain. They would connect him to all the ages, ground him, even as he outlasted them all. He'd thought losing a wife would be the end of him until she told him of how he would follow the lives of his children, watching her live on through them. It had touched him deep in those empty hurting places and put those tired old voices to rest. He had never looked back since with regret.

His apartment was generous for here, but his kids still had to share. He stopped at the first bedroom he came to and as was his routine, took a peek through the door at his two daughters as they slept. Leslie and Jessie lay asleep in their beds, eight and six years old respectively, the darlings of his heart. They were both startlingly beautiful, cookie cutter copies of their mother, both redheaded and green eyed. Scary smart and tough as nails, they would give the boys a run for their money when they grew up.

Jessie hadn't been sleeping so well after the Game was played out just outside her home. It was a learning experience for her, it had made her realize that scary things really existed out in the world and made her aware of her own mortality – Angel, Kimble's adopted daughter, had been her best friend. Angel had perished in the fighting, a bit of a shock for Jessie who had been sheltered like most of the kids who had grown up here. Charles had hoped that moving here would keep his mutants safe, but trouble had found them anyway. Logan did not fear for Jessie, she was tough like he was and already recovering, but he knew she would never forget that it had happened.

He moved to the next room and stopped once more, this time unable to stop the smile that spread across his lips. Like most men, having a son was the pinnacle of proving one's manhood and, to a degree, Logan was guilty of this himself. Not content to merely linger in the doorway, he entered the room and stood over the crib of his youngest child, thinking that it wouldn't be long before this one needed a real bed. Carter was almost three and growing up fast. Unlike the girls, this kid was all Logan. The only one of his kids to come out X-gene positive, Carter was dark haired and serious even at that young age, his fingers slightly deformed at the tips, promising claws later in life. His arms had been X-rayed and already he was showing signs of having his dad's inner bone claws as well, making him a double threat. If he had his dad's healing factor it was slow in showing up, Carter had had his share of ear infections as did any normal toddler, but it was still early yet.

Logan brushed some of Carter's hair back and the boy smiled in his sleep, taking a deep breath as though scenting his night time visitor. He would have his father's enhanced senses, of this Logan had no doubt. Carter was serious, but so far, unlike Logan, seemed to be in control of his temper. He was quiet instead, thoughtful and watchful, not the least bit reckless. He wasn't timid either, he just took his time, watching to see how others did things and learning from their mistakes before he made his own. Hopefully, Logan was thinking, being so cautious would spare him the worst of the pain that he himself had suffered in life.

Logan left his son to happy dreams and withdrew, moving on to the Master bedroom where his wife lay sleeping, her arms and legs spread out as if compensating for his absence in the bed. It wasn't the first time he had come home to this by far, he was an active X-man and had a busy schedule. He was often away from home and was lucky that Karen was independent enough not to give him any grief over it.

Logan undressed, his mind still going. He knew that living with him was hard and it hadn't always been easy. They'd had their share of fights but somehow managed to get through them. He had also long since stopped telling her when he was injured on missions, it scared her far too much when he did, he had learned that much right quick. Now, when he came in so late, it was understood on her part that he had been hurt and had needed to recover, usually somewhere else to spare her and the kids from having to see it. He certainly hadn't told her he'd been fragged by that Bouncing Betty, though she had seen his legs briefly when he had first come back to rest. He'd been cleaned up by then, but it was obvious he'd lost a good chunk of his meat God knows where. She didn't ask and he didn't tell, he merely kissed her deeply, telling her not to worry without ever speaking a word. She had kept quiet and just followed him to bed where he had his nap, wrapping her arms around him until he had fallen asleep.

One thing he had never doubted was her love for him. She had no regrets in spite of all the rough road they had traveled and would do it all over again, he knew this because she stayed. Only a saint with a heart of gold could do that, he was such a rough edged man.

He slid into bed and lay his warm body next to hers, stretching out and pulling her close with his big arms. She was so soft and wonderful there. Perfect.

"I miss you," she mumbled sleepily without opening her eyes. He had been so busy lately, even before this new mission.

"I miss ya too, darlin'," he whispered back to her, nuzzling her hair and making her smile. "I'll make it up to ya, I promise."

"You better," she teased playfully in spite of being so tired.

She was asleep again by her next breath and Logan simply held her there in the dark, ever so grateful to have her there. She was slim and pretty, a lovely redhead with bright green eyes, his favorite. Moments later he was out cold himself.

He woke a few hours later, better rested and brought round by the sounds of his girls chattering away in the kitchen as they ate breakfast and got ready for school. Moments like these were important, he mused to himself. They reminded him why he worked so hard at what he did, he was doing it to protect them and help them have a better life. They made all of his pain and suffering worthwhile.

He got up from his bed, feeling almost fully recovered from his visit to Twilight now after having slept so decently. A hearty breakfast later and he was ready to get back to work. His first stop was a visit to see Charles Xavier and let him know what he was planning for his raid on Frost.

The Professor was happy to listen. They met in Charles' large office. It was a spacious room lined with shelves full of books and fancy handmade artwork. It was homey place, warm and comfortable. Logan took a seat across from the Professor's large wooden desk and their discussion began.

"Have you decided who you will take?" the Professor asked, curious what Logan had in mind.

Logan leaned back in his overstuffed chair, lacing his hands behind his head as he answered, "Fury will want his men to go in -- and they will – just not the way he wants. I plan on usin' them only to take out Frost's men. It won't be much of a fair fight, I've got the feeling that most of Frost's guys are hacks. They should go down easily enough.

"Frost himself is something else. He's obviously got a doorkey or something or other like that, so I want him taken down fast and hard. We get him at the start, we won't have to worry about him escaping or takin' any hostages with him. Besides, I don't give a toss what Fury says, he's gonna want that doorkey for SHIELD and every fiber of my being says we shouldn't let him anywhere near it."

Charles couldn't help but nod in agreement, Logan was saying what he'd been thinking himself. "I agree. That doorkey isn't safe in anyone's hands."

Logan nodded, but was still speaking. "To do that, I want to send in a team to take down the leadership in a first move strike. They go in quiet like, take down Frost, then Fury's guys can mop up the rest. For that strike team I'm gonna need some heavy hitters for that, there were a lot of guys there. A telekinetic would be nice, Jean would be my first choice. Cyke, Rogue, Iceman, Nightcrawler if I can have him.

"Most of all," Logan continued, his voice getting a bit cautious as he added, "...I want a good security team protecting Simone."

"You're taking Simone?" Charles interjected, unable to hide his surprise just as Logan expected. "You can't be serious. He's just a child."

"No he's not. He ain't even alive."

Charles shook his head at Logan's unwillingness to understand about Siskans and who and what they truly were. "Technically you are correct, but you get my point. He is an innocent."

"Maybe, but he's also our way in and out with no fuss." Logan went on to explain about how Simone could conjure his precious doors at will, any time and any place. Charles had gotten a very brief preliminary report on this already, but Logan was now giving him the details. It was very helpful and gave him a better picture of what Logan had in mind. Still, he wasn't quite happy with the Siskan leaving the Complex.

"I don't like this at all," Charles continued to protest. "He's not the least bit trained. He's only been out of a holding cell for just a few weeks."

"He's been going back and forth to Twilight on his own for a while now, Charles," Logan reminded, crossing his arms in irritation.

"Yes, and look at how well that turned out."

Logan rolled his eyes in exasperation. "This time will be different. He'll be going in cloaked and getting an escort this trip around. He's just to open our door and that's it. No fightin' or takin' part in doing anything else. He'll be well looked after. I want the ferals. I want Kyle and Sabretooth."

"Kristalay. He calls himself Kristalay now," the Professor corrected, only to see Logan slowly shaking his head in disdain. "I know you don't think it means anything, Logan, but it does. A new name means a moving on. Just the same, I don't feel either he or Kyle can be entirely trusted. Besides, were you planning on killing half the island just to get what you want? They'll slaughter everyone. I thought this was going to be something of a rescue, not an act of revenge."

"This ain't revenge."

"It still sounds like overkill. You were planning on taking Frost alive, yes?"

"They won't be coming for Frost. They'll be for door guarding only. Our exit has to be protected. They've already said yes."

"That was presumptuous."

"Just thought I'd ask," Logan returned but his eyes were merry with ironic humor as he gave his boss the same line he'd given his half brother. "No point in asking you if they weren't interested."

"And if they try to escape?"

"It's an island, there's nowhere for them to go. If they use the Honey it will probably just drop them back outside Frost's warehouse like it did for me. Since I'm plannin' on using that spot as our launching point, SHIELD will be right there waiting to pick them up. Besides, they've been good, you can't deny it."

"And I don't. Do you trust them?"

"Enough for this. Besides, I'll be with them the whole time."

The Professor arched an eyebrow in surprise, "It's not like you to hold back."

"Like I said, my primary concern is our exit. I not so irresponsible that I would risk stranding us all there."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Look, I want what you want. Frost gets taken down and everyone comes home. If I can do this with no one having to use the Honey like I did, I can hold back for that."

Charles nodded, relenting for now. "When are you planning on going?"

"Couple of days, not more. Remy's checkin' out something in Boston, I can wait until he gets back."

"All right. See it done."

Logan nodded and walked out, ready to get this ball rolling.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

A few hours earlier, as Logan was looking in on his sleeping children, Remy was still hard at work. He was sitting at Etienne's large dining table, his stomach pleasantly full from the good graces of Etienne's fine chef. He hadn't realized just how hungry he'd been until the spread had been laid out – steamed clams, chowder, corn bread and a generous Caesar salad.

Etienne sat beside him, sifting through a stack of papers, trying to glean as much as he could from what his Guild spies had managed to discover about Remy's mysterious woman. "Let's see, let's see..." Etienne was mumbling to himself. "Kathy Tanner, aka Sarah Michaels, aka Dragonfly."

"Dat's de one," Remy said, taking one of the papers from his cousin. "She 'ave a big dragonfly tat on 'er back."

"You get zat good a look at 'er back, eh?" Aiden teased from across the table, his pale green eyes merry. He had seen the scan of the Polaroid Remy had started all this with and was quite impressed with Kathy's good looks. "Wit' all ze time you szpend on 'er front?"

Gambit is t'orough, Gambit is wise," Remy teased in return with no small amount of pride. "Gambit don' miss a t'ing, fils."

Aiden grunted a laugh and bit back the comment he would have made right back – that he was well aware of just how thorough the thief was himself. It had taken a skin change on his part, but he'd taken Gambit for a ride once, many years ago. He wouldn't forget it. He was of course, sensible not to bring it up in a crowd. Humans misunderstood so many things.

Aiden and Kimble were seated across from Remy and his cousin, the remains of their own generous meal spread out in front of them. They had dined well and were quite full. Kimble's eyes were droopy even though he hadn't eaten as much as Gambit had expected, considering he had requested this meal himself.

There was still a raggedy edge to Kimble's shine that Remy didn't quite like. There was a twinge of fear in there, a lingering unease that had popped out the moment Remy had outed him to Etienne that hadn't gone away with the food or the conversation. The pilot had been very quiet ever since they had arrived, his eyes flickering now and then to the others here in the room. They were not alone, some of Etienne's men walked in and out and there were also some wait staff lingering in case they needed anything. Mostly, Kimble kept watching Etienne's face when the man spoke as though Kimble kept expecting him to say something, something that hadn't come yet.

Aiden was aware of it as well and did his best to comfort his lovemate, but with each public display of affection, the darkness in Kimble's shine grew worse. When a mere pat of Aiden's hand made Kimble flinch and turn away, Aiden stopped and had kept his hands to himself. Aiden didn't comment on it though it had to hurt, Remy reasoned. In many ways, as pleasant as he could be, living with Kimble wasn't always so easy.

Etienne wasn't even remotely aware of the Siskans' underlying discomfort, he was doling out the facts of his investigation. "Kathy Tanner, Jersey driver's license, address Seaside Down, New Jersey. Don't look like luxury livin', it a trailer park."

"Considerin' 'er profession, it's still a step up from living in a cardboard box," Remy mused, his voice a little sad. He'd seen so many street people living hard, so many women on their own and struggling just to survive. He'd spent his share of time with the girls, selfishly not always thinking about how they might be living once they left his hotel room. "She seem like she was doin' okay when I met 'er."

Etienne squinted. " 'Ow long ago was dat, eh? Dis photo of you an 'er real old." Unlike Logan, Etienne had noticed right away what had been missing – Remy's big scars. The two men had been close enough for Etienne to have seen them many times over the years. He had come to see Remy when he had first returned from his Guild exile, shocked to see the wear on his younger cousin who now in many ways, seemed so much older than he was himself.

Remy nodded, "Oui, it was at least fo'teen years ago, mebbe a little more."

"De girls, dey don't keep so long, eh? 'Specially not when dey get used up like dat. Good girl or non, she probably all Cracked out by now."

Remy flinched a little at that, feeling a huge twinge of guilt. He'd been able to walk away from the street life, but only because he'd been fortunate to bump into the right people. Most folks were not so lucky.

Etienne saw it and lay a hand on Remy's arm. "It ain't all bad. It say 'ere she got married an 'ave a coupla kids."

Remy took that scrap of paper and looked at it closely. It was a Zerox of a marriage license and a couple of birth certificates. Two girls, they would be six or seven now. Maybe she had managed to escape a fate worse than being a used up Crack whore after all.

Etienne continued to go over the papers, found one and froze, his face growing sad with surprise.

Remy saw it and took the paper as he questioned, "What?" It didn't take him long to see what had upset his cousin so. His own face showing his dismay.

"What isz it?" Aiden asked, sensing the rapid change in mood.

"It say 'ere Kathy's dead," Remy replied. " 'Er and all 'er family. Dey got de Flush."

"Flush? What isz zat?" Aiden was a little out of the loop.

"It's a real bad sickness," Kimble answered, speaking up though he had been quiet for the most part here at the table. "It kills all the humans that gits it, thems what ain't mutants anyhow. Henry tole me abouts it. I'm sorry, Rems. She seemed like a nice girl."

"Merci," Remy replied, smiling at Kimble and appreciating his concern. Truth was, he barely knew the girl and didn't feel much beyond simple regret. Still, all this did nothing to explain how her photograph ended up at Twilight. "Says 'ere she die almos' six months ago when de Flush first broke out."

Etienne nodded. "Her area was one of de hardest hit. It's why dey been forced to set up de quarantine camps."

"You t'ink 'er place still around? I'd like to take a poke around, see if dere's anything dere I can find out."

"Could be risky. Dere's still a lot we don' know about de Flush. Don' want to see you get infected, homme."

Remy smiled back at Etienne, his face all affection. "No worries, eh? I got a doctor at my disposal. Just gonna give him a ring firs' see what 'e say."

"You might want to wait on dat for de now, get some rest," Etienne suggested, looking at his watch. It was now almost four in the morning, they'd been up most the night. "You guys just got in and it's late now. Call yo' man in de morning."

"Probably right," Remy agreed and rose, heading off to bed. The sun was beginning to lighten the sky, he had been up all night and was tired. Kimble and Aiden followed him and went to their own room, ready for some sleep themselves.

..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..--

It was almost noon the next day when Remy awoke, cursing that it was already so late. Logan hadn't given him much time and he didn't want to waste it. He showered quickly and dressed, going down the hall to see if his Siskans were up as well. He knocked and entered, not the least bit surprised to see that while Aiden was up, Kimble was not.

Aiden sat at a large bow window, happy to have found a generous window bench seat there. He'd opened the casement windows, letting in fresh air from outside. He was naked as he reclined comfortably on the seat there and was smoking, being careful to blow the smoke out the window and not foul the air of the room, being a thoughtful guest who was mindful of his host. The vertical blinds were wide open as well, allowing the bright sun to stream in with the fresh air, warming his skin. It wasn't an act of exhibitionism, Aiden was powering up from the sun, using the window for convenience.

Remy was an observant man, had been trained to be so by a Master Thief. He missed little. Kimble's shine was bright and sparkly now, Aiden had done his best to cheer the melancholy pilot and had succeeded. It had taken a good hard round of play, Remy could sense but still not quite see the echo of Aiden's Morrowhiem still sparkling around Kimble's sleeping body like a warm, pleasant and lingering dream. For him to still see it now meant they'd had quite a tumble. Aiden did not have Morrowhiem as powerful as Asher's famous corrective treatments but he had done his best to compensate for that lack and made Kimble feel better. Remy was happy to see it.

Aiden's shine however, was not so bright. Not hurting, but a little tired and sad, something that Remy still saw from time to time even though the boys had settled down and married. Aiden had been a solitary Siskan in the past, a side effect of having been horribly abused by former Masters, and something that seemed hard for the guy to give up. Remy could guess the source of this particular semi-sulk, Kimble's lingering fears were just as hard for the pilot to give up and a bit of a trial to deal with for the long haul. Remy hadn't handled it so well himself in the past and wasn't the least bit envious of the Dreamer. Still, he had no doubt the boys would get through it just fine. The one thing they were not short on was love.

"Bon jour," Remy greeted. He walked over to where Aiden sat, not the least bit fazed that the Dreamer was nude. Being around so many Siskans had long since burned away any prudish sensibilities the thief may have had. Remy was as Siskan as he was human these days, stuck somewhere in between. He could anticipate their moods, figure out what they needed without having to be asked. It was a pleasure as much as it could hurt him at times, but he wouldn't have given it up for the world.

Aiden didn't respond verbally to Remy's greeting, but he smiled warmly, happy when Remy settled against the wall behind him, happier still when the thief brushed a hand through his hair with real affection. All the Siskans were like needy children and thrived on physical contact, and this one was no exception. Remy understood so much, how just that simple touch would say so many things – that Aiden was loved and appreciated just as he was. It was nice to know. "It isz time to go?"

"Oui. Too bad lazybones over dere still sleepin'."

Aiden looked Kimble's way, his smile never dimming. Kimble was sprawled out on his belly, all wings and limbs, snoring away and hogging the bed now that Aiden had risen. The bedclothes were luxurious and comfortable, silk and satin, something a Siskan's sensitive skin would appreciate. The blankets had slid half off of him, only adding to the picture of a man who was well pleased and out cold because of it. "Szo well 'e szleepsz now isz pain isz gone."

" 'E look better, eh? Not so happy last night. He worry too much what people t'ink."

Aiden nodded, turning back to the sun. " 'E gettin' better abou' zat. It not szo bad asz ze laszt time."

Remy closed his eyes, remembering that all too well. It had happened a few months back when Remy had arranged for the twins to be baptized. They had gone to see the priest to set things up, Remy and Kimble. It was supposed to be easy, just setting up the time and the place. Everything had gone fine until the priest asked Remy who would be the godparents. It caught Remy by surprise -- in all of his planning, he hadn't even thought about that at all. Before he could reply, Kimble, with his great big heart, had jumped right in.

"Why me and Aiden would loves ta do fer yer kids if anathin' should happen to yous," Kimble offered, his grin wide. He had recalled the ceremonies of when Logan's kids were baptized and was more than happy to help out. "You knows he just loves the little 'uns."

The priest just smiled patiently at Kimble. "We prefer the godparents to be a married couple. Children need families."

"We is married, him and me..." Kimble protested, still off his guard. His voice started to falter as he felt a strong vibration of warning come from Remy, but it didn't stop him from completing his thoughts. "... and we is family."

Remy had vibrated warning indeed, it was all he could do not to scream it, but it was now too late. Kimble had no idea of what he'd just said, the ramifications of it, but Remy could already see the dismay and concern on the priest's face.

First of all, what Kimble didn't exactly realize was that his marriage wasn't actually legal or binding to the church or anyone else -- no license had ever been issued by any state, it hadn't taken place in any church. It hadn't been done in a church because, quite simply, none of the clergy here would perform it. It had been done instead in the Solarium in a beautiful midnight ceremony. Asher, an un-ordained layman, had acted as priest just the same and oversaw the exchange of vows. Remy and Molly had come as witnesses. It was private and lovely, the most moving marriage Remy had ever attended, but it wasn't something that could be recognized as legal, no matter how well intentioned the participants.

Of course, the problem here was well beyond an illegal marriage. It was what the two Siskans looked like to those who did not know them. Many times Remy had been frustrated when he tried to describe just what a Siskan was to people, but still he tried. They were constructs and not organically alive, he said to the priest now, choosing his words as carefully as he could. They were so much more than that of course -- they were holographic, sexual servants and expected to run their owner's house -- but he was sure to downplay that aspect of their duties to this priest. The unavoidable fact was that, as far as the church would be concerned, Siskan Courtesans had been created by sinners for the purposes of sin. Remy had to tread very carefully as he explained some of this, trying not to make this any worse than Kimble had already made it.

Because they were intended for any user, Siskan Courtesans were in reality genderless and could be programmed to look how their Master or Mistress desired, Remy said. Kimble looked the way he did because someone chose that skin, not himself. An unfortunate accident stole from him the ability to change skins, but Aiden was still able to shift his skin into that of a beautiful young woman. Their appearance meant nothing, it was the soul inside that mattered. Remy was hoping that living amongst so many mutants would have eased the idea of this into the priest's head, but it did nothing of the sort. It was not to be allowed. Remy would have to choose someone else, a couple more acceptable for the duty of godparents.

Kimble grew more and more uncomfortable as the priest spoke his answer. Kimble even hadn't considered that his unconventional marriage would even be an issue in this matter. Not that he blamed Remy any, he could see that the thief was trying to explain as best he could, acting on the fly after being so caught off guard himself. Kimble was good, though, he stayed by Remy's side as the thief continued to argue on his behalf, bravely toughing it out.

That was, until Mrs. Gideon, the priest's assistant and record keeper, had spoken up next. She was an elderly woman, widowed now, and unafraid to speak her mind. Her eyes were bright, well intentioned, even as she spoke words sure to rip Kimble's fragile self esteem to shreds. "The way you boys live," she said to Kimble, her voice as cheerful and seemingly harmless sounding as if she were speaking to a child. "...is an affront to God. Be thankful He is merciful. Repent your wicked ways and spare yourself an eternity in torment. Surely you will burn in Hell if you do not."

"Excuse-moi?" Remy had snarled at her, insulted beyond belief that she would dare to say such a thing. Were these people deaf or just merely stupid? He had explained all this already. He wasn't questioning this woman's right to feel the way she did, only that she would be so crass as to say it aloud to Kimble's face. "What's dis you say?!"

Father Bob stepped in between them, unsure of just what Remy might do. Mrs. Gideon herself had been shocked by Remy's unexpected and angry outburst, he had been such a polite young man as he had made the arrangements here. Father Bob sputtered his apologies, ones Remy didn't quite believe. Well, the man did feel bad for Kimble, but he wasn't quite in disagreement with his assistant however, and Kimble could see it.

"I'm sorry, Rems," Kimble apologized, taking the blame as usual, his voice breaking as he turned away. "Sorry fer evrathing."

Kimble left the parish office in a rush, unable to get out of there fast enough, his eyes already threatening tears. Remy had tried to follow but Kimble knew the Complex far too well. Remy had looked everywhere but the pilot could not be found. It was hours before Kimble came home from his hiding place, his face streaked with those spent tears. Asher came immediately, treating him more than once with his powerful Morrowhiem just to keep him from crashing any further. It had helped but afterwards Kimble wouldn't leave his apartment for days except for his obligatory practice runs on the Dragon 2. He adamantly refused to attend the baptism even though Remy, in his fury, had selected another church in the Complex to perform it. Kimble also made it clear that Remy would have to choose someone else to be godparents, kicking up such a hateful, hurtful fuss until Remy and Molly finally chose Logan and Karen instead just to quiet him down. It had been horrible and ugly, something Remy and Kimble would never forget.

"Do not worry," Aiden said now from his seat in the window, sensing Remy's guilt. "Etienne prove 'imszelf. 'E did not szay what Keemble expect 'im to szay."

"What's dat, cher?"

"Zat we will burn in 'Ell fo' all time."

Remy was quick to come to his cousin's defense. "Etienne would never say sumptin' like dat and it ain't just out of bein' polite. Etienne don' care."

Aiden was quick to agree, his shine apologetic. "I know zat by 'isz shine. Now Keemble know, too. It juszt zat Keem never quite know 'oo gonna szay it next, eh? He always szo szcare."

Remy nodded and turned away, looking outside to Etienne's well manicured lawn. He didn't like to think too much about the baptism that had gone so awry. He wasn't deeply religious, but with all of his blessings recently, thoughts of God often crossed his mind. Because of the cruel things humans had said, Kimble's view of God had been so badly ruined, he doubted even Asher could bring him back. Kimble didn't talk about God, Kimble shrank from religious conversations of any kind, Kimble was so afraid of judgement that he wouldn't even dare to return to the level the Professor had made for all the religious functions, as though a bolt of lightning was sure to zap him into dust the moment he would step off the elevator. If a crime had been committed, Remy couldn't help but think, it had been committed against Kimble for making him feel such shame, not one that Kimble had committed himself.

"We should go," Aiden said, his voice going soft with regret. He was sorry he had made Remy's thoughts so sad. "I'll wake 'im up."

"Bien," Remy replied, watching as Aiden rose and went to the task. As Aiden passed him by, Aiden bumped his shoulder gently with his own, an unspoken apology. Remy smiled, all was forgiven, but he couldn't help but be somewhat happy they were working today, the job would clear his mind. Kimble would come around, he just needed time and right now, Remy had bigger priorities. He needed to know how Kathy Tanner's picture ended up back in his hands. The only way to do that was to get going.

..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..--

Henry McCoy stepped out into the early spring sunshine, blinking and wondering if maybe he should have worn his sunglasses. The weather here in Virginia had been spectacular and cool, a relief from the heat of the Arizona desert. He was leaving the massive steel and glass fortress of the Center for Disease Control, heading out across their large tarmac towards the hanger where their private planes were housed. He'd been recalled home to the X-men's Arizona Complex and was eager to depart.

Henry was a large man, blue furred and a bit fearsome looking. He had the body of linebacker, well muscled and strong, but his face was one only a mother could love. Troll like with pointed ears, a large jaw, and a bit of fang protruding from his lower lip, it took some people a bit of getting used to before they could look him in the eyes without a shiver of fear. He'd long grown accustomed to the long looks and stares, they rarely bothered him anymore.

What did continue to hurt him was when folks didn't take him seriously as a scientist just because of what he looked like. Being cosmetically challenged didn't mean his mind was any less sharp than that of his peers. It had taken him many years, but he felt now that he had finally accomplished enough in his field to have overcome the worst of what people might have thought of him. The Flush wasn't the first virus he'd tackled and that previous work was really paying off here. He had everything he could possibly want at his disposal in exchange for the use of his brilliant mind.

His colorful and monstrous mutation had earned him the codename Beast, but in truth he was anything but. He was by nature gentle and kind, his intelligence at near genius level. He was passionate about his work and was never quite as happy as he was when he was helping someone. It had never crossed his mind once to refuse the CDC's call for assistance.

He had been here in Atlanta for days, helping those friends from the CDC try to figure out how best to handle the Flush epidemic that had been spreading on the East Coast. He hadn't been here long, but the work had been intense and hard. They had made a serious breakthrough – on a whim, Henry had decided to test the virus and see if it was X-gene positive and it was. That meant one thing – this virus wasn't a virus in the normal sense, but something that had come from a mutated human. Some were quick to suggest that it was from mutant terrorists but Henry sure to point out it could be terrorists exploiting someone who produced the virus innocently. It had been done in the past. Of course it could just as easily be from someone who had no idea they were releasing the virus at all.

Unfortunately, the DNA of the Flush didn't match anyone the government had in their massive mutant DNA data base. All that did was add to the government's frustration and renewed arguments in favor of the Mutant Registration Act. The Act demanded that all mutants provide a DNA sample, all the easier to catch the bad guys.

Henry's thoughts on the Registration Act were mixed -- it would provide some services for those who desperately needed it, but at the same time it violated some civil liberties. He felt that no one should be compelled to provide their DNA samples if they didn't want to. He had tried to avoid being forced to make a public opinion on the matter, but the more widespread the Flush was becoming, the more he was being drawn into the political side of things. His reputation as a geneticist and scientist was well known and his opinions desired. It was growing harder to remain in the shadows.

"Whatcha all thinkin' so serious like?" Star asked him cheerfully, sliding her slender white arm into his as they walked.

Henry smiled down at her, his eyes filled with nothing but love for her.

Star was Siskan, a Rogue of the Game just as Kimble was, and the thief of his heart. She was tiny and small, less than half his size, but sturdy and strong willed enough to have worn down his intense shyness when it came to personal relationships, making him her own. She had pursued him relentlessly, Henry's only regret that he hadn't given in to her sooner. She had showed him so many things, but the most important one had been that there was nothing better than being loved so completely.

She was so beautiful, the dream of any man. Long white hair fell to her waist and though she was currently clothed in comfortable scrubs, her large Orange Mark could still just be seen, peeking out of the V-neck of her shirt. She was a Rogue and so spoke with Kimble's hick accent, but Henry had long grown used to it and even enjoyed the soft lull of it. Her eyes were a pale orange and always bright, enough of a distraction to remind him of how she had looked that morning, sprawled out and contented on their bed, drowsy from sleep and a delightful round of play they had shared the night before.

"I was thinking that I was glad to be going home for a while," he answered her as he fished in a pocket for his sunglasses. "I could use the rest."

"We gots a lot done," she replied, directing his hand to the correct pocket. Like all good Siskans, she had taken over his household and took care of all of his needs, including his packing. She knew where everything was. "But there's so much more we could do if we wuz stayin'."

Star was more than just his lover, she was his Lab assistant. Unlike Logan, Henry had no qualms whatsoever about integrating the Siskans into the X-men society and was happy to make good use of their various skills. He saw them as an asset, persons to be used for the greater good. Henry had taught Star the ropes of Lab work himself, taking advantage of her near perfect memory. He rarely had to show her how to do anything twice and she was patient and quiet, the best kind of assistant to have. She knew when to ask questions and when to just leave him be, working out his thoughts. She was indispensable to him now.

He nodded at her now, "The call to come home was urgent and we have to go. Don't fret, we'll be coming right back here again when we're done there."

Late last night, after too long of a shift in the labs, Henry had checked his phone messages from home, startled by what he'd heard – Simone was hurt, he'd been shot. Then a second, calmer message saying Simone was fine and had now recovered. The third and last message was from Logan asking him to come home, not to care for Simone, but for something far more important. There was a big mission being planned, one that could have many potential casualties. Logan was hoping he would help them out and set up some kind of triage in case it was needed. Put that all together and something significant had happened, something he would be needed for.

As when the CDC had called him, Beast readily agreed to return. He was a doctor, a geneticist and more, but he was an X-man first. He would help his people and then return to work, helping the rest of the world. He had left "homework" for his colleagues to do in his absence and would be in constant touch with them by phone. The work would still continue.

Henry and his treasured Siskan walked out across the black pavement of a private runway at the CDC corporate building and headed towards the Lucky Dragon. Henry had been loaned out to the CDC but with a few very strict conditions – his privacy had to be respected, especially when it came to his mode of travel.

The Lucky Dragon was a spaceship and there was no easy way around explaining that. He was able to get by with the excuse that it was the personal creation of a gifted mutant, something that wasn't entirely a lie as Fallen was by most standards a mutant and she had built this ship herself. He just omitted the fact that she'd been abducted by aliens, forcibly mutated, and taught how to make such ships by her captors. Little details like that tended to bring out more questions than they actually answered, so they did.

The Lucky Dragon was sleek and beautiful, uncloaked as it rested inside one of the CDC's huge hangers. It was obviously something unEarthly, it was crescent shaped and shiny silver, with no clear signs of any type of engine that the humans here would be familiar with. The Dognan who had kidnapped Fallen used pilots to fuel their ships and since she was a pilot herself, was the Mistress and captain of this fine vessel.

Fallen was waiting for them outside the ship, doing some last minute checks on the ship before leaving. She was small and white, a tiny, pale version of Kimble in appearance, though unlike him, she was the pilot for real. Her hair was as pale as her skin, but not long like Star's, it merely touched her shoulders. She had the leathery, bat like wings of a Dognan pilot, though much smaller than Kimble's. They could never be used for actual flight. Not that that was any trouble, she was telekinetic enough to fly on her own with just a thought.

Her primary function among the X-men these days was transportation and supply runs. The Lucky Dragon was the speediest thing in the skies – and outer space if need be. She was happy to help out and earn her place here among these mutants. She had found herself a home.

"Ready to go?" she asked Henry and Star as they approached, smiling when she saw them arm in arm. It was hard not to like the good doctor, and anything that made him so happy was just fine by her.

"Yes, indeed," Henry answered. He looked around, "Is Seth around?"

"He's inside, waiting for us."

Seth was Fallen's husband and yet another Siskan in the X-men's small collection. He was special to Fallen – he was, for the most part, her own creation, and therefor perfect in her eyes. Fallen had been the first to find Kimble many, many years ago. He had been broken, with half his data and memories erased. She had created the Seth personality to finish those gaps, and complete Kimble. What happened instead was the rebirth of the pair as sort of Siamese twins -- bonded close as flesh, but at the same time, able to think independently of one another. Through time and circumstance they were separated now, but still closer than brothers in how they responded to each other. Seth looked like his pilot brother Kimble except that he shared his Mistress's white coloring and hair. He was shyer than Kimble, not so outspoken, and more than happy not be noticed or out in the spotlight.

It didn't keep him from being useful or just as integrated as Star had been. Seth was a computer whiz and hacker, used frequently by the X-men to infiltrate the computer systems of their rivals. If it was out there, sooner or later Seth could find it. He and Henry had grown quite close and he was never very far from where Henry was working.

Seth had come along on this trip, but he'd been kept hidden away. No one from the CDC knew he was here. Henry, in fumbling through his explanations for Lucky's advanced design had been forced to concoct his tale about the ship being a mutant's design. That excuse would fall apart as soon as anyone saw Seth. They could buy that Fallen was a mutant, she didn't look anything close to human. They might even have bought that Fallen and Seth, who looked so much alike, could even be brother and sister, but never that they were unrelated and in fact married. That would fall back into the realm of "they just might be aliens", a place Henry didn't want to go.

Of course, the skies were full of aliens, the Dognan themselves had been visiting this particular version of Earth as well as others. Couldn't have the common folk knowing that, though, there would be quite the panic. It was enough that the locals had to deal with all these mutants, never mind aliens.

The X-men knew about these aliens, of course. Some of their members had even been "off world" more than once. It was the mutants' special abilities that drew some aliens here, either to determine if the mutants were a threat or not, or even to exploit them for their own ends if possible.

Fallen joined Henry and Star and they boarded the ship. Seth was in the galley, waiting for them as promised. He saw his Mistress and rose, happy to see her as if she'd been gone for days instead of just a few moments. He kissed her happily in greeting, not the least bit shy in displaying his love – Morrowhiem glitter wisped off his hands as he touched her, a sign of his intense feelings for her. It always startled Henry to see this -- if anything, Kimble, the most powerful seeming of the pair, should have had this talent, but it was Seth who had inherited those particular codes.

Henry knew the mighty bliss of the Morrowhiem glitter all too well and couldn't stop a smile at the sight of it. Star had that talent in abundance and hadn't been shy either about using it in their private play. Her glitter was unique amongst all the Siskans, hers could actually heal a wounded human. In Henry's case, the time he'd spent with her was obvious to most folks who knew him well. His step had grown lighter, his strength was growing and becoming more like when he was a younger man. He jokingly called her his "Fountain of Youth", but there was some seriousness in there. She was changing him, making him feel wonderful.

Back on the Lucky Dragon, the foursome took their seats and were soon in the air, closing the distance between Atlanta and home. It was about halfway through the journey when Henry felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He opened it and answered, "This is McCoy."

"Bon jour, Monsieur Beast," Remy's soft Cajun voice lilted playfully in his ear.

Henry grunted a laugh. "And what may I do for you, my friend?"

"Got a quick question – 'Ow long it take before a person can go inside a house where de Flush been wit'out gettin' sick?"

Henry was startled, he hadn't expected that sort of question at all. "Preferably never. Why on earth would you need to?"

"It real important. I won't go if you say so, but it would be a real big 'elp if I could."

Henry nodded, calculating in his mind. "I would say at least a week, more than that even better. The Flush is very similar to AIDS. It seems to be passed from person to person through direct contact only, and supposedly cannot survive for more than eight hours outside of a human host, but there is still much we don't know. You're taking quite a risk."

"It been six months, dis family one of de firs' ones to get sick."

"That should be fine. If there's a quarantine marker on the door, the house was probably already fumed and even safer. Just... just be careful, okay? Don't stay any longer than you need to."

"No worries, it just a quick in and out."


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Remy snapped his phone shut and sat back in his pilot seat on the Dragon 2. Now that they were back in the air they were making good time, but they had been delayed in leaving and not just by Kimble's reluctance to get out of bed.

Etienne had been a gracious host and wouldn't allow them to leave until he had his personal chef load them up with more goodies for the day's work. They had been sent on with a generous packed lunch of sandwiches, fruit salad, chips and a homemade chocolate cake. Fortunately, Seth's design of the Dragon 2 had been well thought out. Under the floor of the main cabin were storage compartments, one of which could be refrigerated. Their lunch would keep well to be enjoyed later.

Remy was used to this sort of hospitality. It came in no small part from the woman he considered to be his mother - Tante Mattie. Tante Mattie didn't seem like much when you saw her, she was the typical Southern black matriarchal woman at first glance, but in reality she was so much more. Etienne had a chef to do most of the cooking, but Tante Mattie ran the house and did so with absolute authority. She had come along with Etienne to Boston when the Guild split, finding his band of Thieves more agreeable than Henri's even though Henri was Jean Luc's actual son.

She was a complex woman and far more than she seemed. She was in the kitchen one moment, harassing Etienne's poor beleaguered chef, and the next she was in her basement apartment, cooking up a gris gris for Etienne's good luck. She was a voodoo priestess and wasn't shy about it. She had a huge alter made loaded with candles, Catholic and occult figurines, and pictures of those she loved. She had a way of looking at you that told you this wasn't just for show. She _**knew**_ things, and was quick to share them when she had a point to make.

She had seen Remy and the boys off before they left that afternoon. The Siskans she had only heard of before and was meeting them for the first time, but she was as polite to them as she would have any human, paying particular attention to Kimble. She had learned from Remy years ago that this one was special to her adopted son, and made sure he knew it. She gave him a generous hug and whispered softly into his ear, something that made him smile and his shine sparkle brightly with happiness.

Kimble had fallen in love with her right away. She wasn't exactly beautiful, old age and a steady diet of fine Cajun food had added to her girth, but her smile was large and inviting, something his Siskan spirit easily responded to. "You take good care of my boy now, y' hear?" she said to him as if in confidence. " 'E always need lookin' after, though I suspect you know that already."

"Yes, ma'am," Kimble replied, smiling happily. He was thrilled that she saw him as qualified for the job, that he was family. "I surely do."

"I'm a grown man, Tante," Remy protested, but he was laughing. "I can look after m'self well enough."

Tante Mattie grunted at him, still teasing as she gave him a dubious look. "True, you look well enough, but dere ain't no need in giving yo' pretty wife any need to fret."

Remy smiled at that. He'd brought Molly and the twins out to see Mattie not long after the birth. He knew better than to stay away, Mattie would have sent some spirits to torment him until he had, no doubt. The Dragon 2 team was still learning the ropes so Fallen and Seth had flown them all out on Lucky instead.

Mattie had been sweet to Molly right from the beginning and was quick to show her approval. She could see right away that this girl was a much better match for her adopted son than Rogue had been and was happy to see that not only had he settled down, but the grandchildren had finally arrived. She took possession of the twins and was reluctant to let them go, setting them free only when Remy had promised to visit often.

Remy had enjoyed the visit he'd made today. It reminded him of the things he had left behind in New Orleans, that larger sense of family he had always enjoyed. He had that again this last visit out and made a mental promise to himself not to wait so long before visiting again.

Mattie gave him another big squeeze, enough to take his breath away. "You look good, mon fils," she said to him, knowing it was true. He was at this moment, the happiest she had ever seen him.

"I am good," he replied, meaning it.

"Bien. Now you boys go on and be safe."

Remy kissed her and they departed, making their way to New Jersey.

Now, in the friendly skies, Remy stretched a little in his pilot seat, still smelling Tante Mattie's sweet perfume on his clothes as he sifted through the papers Etienne had given him. Some more information on Kathy Tanner's family had come in right before he had left and it was confusing, not exactly in agreement with what he had first been told the previous evening.

First, there were conflicting accounts of the children, some records showed two kids, another showed three. Had one child died? It seemed that only two of them were in school at least. Only two had been taken to the quarantine camp where they had later died.

Another report -- and this one had Remy's interest all right -- told the story that the night the family had been taken away to quarantine, the police had come. They weren't called on account of the disease having been reported, that judgement had been made after they had arrived. No, there were some sketchy details about the father having been assaulted and fatally wounded on the scene, possibly by Kathy Tanner herself in some sort of domestic disturbance. Remy could only hope that when he got to the house, there might be some clues left after six months for him to sort all this out.

Remy and his crew found the trailer park well enough – the whole place had been emptied out and surrounded by new chain link fencing topped with barbed wire. The fencing was covered with huge signs warning people to stay out of the area, that infection was still possible. Several of the trailers had been covered with strange looking blue tents – the fumigation tents Henry had mentioned. The fact that the park was now empty was a plus, there would be no one there to see them snooping around.

Remy had Kimble cruise the ship low enough to get an idea of the address numbers on the trailers. They were in luck, close by where the Tanner trailer was located, there was an area cleared of trees where the residents could have cookouts. A neglected tennis court was there as well, providing a perfect place to land.

"You wants us to come?" Kimble asked once they were on the ground.

Remy just shook his head. "Non, dere ain't no need. No one 'ere gonna gonna give us any trouble. If I need you, I'll get you on de radio."

Remy stepped out of the ship and walked a bit, checking the numbers. Kimble had landed them close to Kathy's address and her trailer was well within eyesight of the Dragon 2.

The trailer he stood in front of was wrapped in one of those big blue tents and had the address number sprayed on it in yellow spay paint, along with a bio-hazard symbol, how inviting. Remy stood there a minute, pausing to pop a stick of gum in his mouth as he considered his options. The tent gave him pause, but then, Henry did say he thought it should be safe enough. What to do, what to do...?

A soft breeze brew his hair, warm and smelling of the late spring. It rippled along the blue tent, telling secrets, Yes, there. A corner had already been cut away. Remy was not the first one to come here, thinking about going inside. It was more likely looters than anything more sinister, but the security here, such as it was, had already been breached, an open invitation.

Well, that pretty much decided things for him. Remy followed his predecessors, lifting up the corner and giving it a yank. A section of the house tent shifted and fell, enough that the front of the trailer could now be seen.

"Sacre merde!" Remy gasped, his eyes wide.

The trailer was nothing fancy, vinyl sided white with black shutters. Next to the front door were the remains of an old tree stump, one with large gouges in it, like those made by an axe. Above that was a huge scorch mark, one Remy knew all too well. The scorch mark was not smooth, it was textured and even a little lumpy, like blood and bits and flesh had been splashed up with the flame as well.

X-men training came in many shapes in sizes. There were your standard combat techniques and all too boring academics. Then there were side classes for the more advanced. He had never really been a student per se, but he had audited one class that had caught his eye – one that taught how to recognize and classify the various types of energy producers. Being one himself, he thought he might find it interesting and he had, especially when examples of his own powers had been given up as models.

Not that he had needed photos of his own handiwork to recognize it.

Growing up as mutant was never easy, especially for those who had the capability to injure others without intending to. As a pre-teen, Remy was already learning this for himself. It had started out innocently enough – he would constantly zap folks when he touched them, as though he was a walking ball of static electricity. Jean Luc was a quick man, it hadn't taken him long to realize something was going on with his adopted son, and he was sure to keep an eye on the lad.

Days later, an unfortunate accident showed the problem was much more serious. Remy had been having a fight with Henri – nothing unusual there, they squabbled often – and it came to blows. Henri, being both older and bigger, soon got the better of him and Remy fled. They were at a local playground and as Remy passed by a small pile of stones, he reached down without really thinking and grabbed a handful. He was still furious with his brother, the boy had been cruel, and in his fury, Remy let the stones do the talking for him. He let fly, but then stood in shock and surprise when not only did they go father than he had expected, but they had popped like firecrackers as they hit Henri square in the chest. Remy had charged them without realizing it, thankfully not enough to any real harm. It gave Henri a bit of fright though, and he ran to tell Jean Luc.

That evening, after supper, Jean Luc pulled Remy aside and some new training began. Jean Luc was no scientist, but he was no fool either. He found ways to help Remy with his temper and control and Remy was able to get to the point where he could keep his power under wraps. At least for a while.

Henri's distrust of mutants had begun with that handful of exploding rocks and was never forgotten. He had founded his own gang of Thieves friends early, and later, when the boys had gained some size, they had some more fun at Remy's expense. They caught him alone and gave chase through the ally ways, making a great noise and banging garbage cans. Fearful of another beating, Remy fled. He wasn't without courage, but he was outclassed and outnumbered and counted on his wits to save him.

He had by now discovered his enhanced agility and was quick to use it, climbing up and away along the fire escapes. One boy still caught up with him -- Pierre LeBeau – a cousin of a cousin and as much of a bully as Henri had ever been. He snatched at Remy and Remy turned on him, his fear and rage at being hounded in this way catching up with him. He had Pierre's shirt in his hands when he gave it a charge, the first time he had willfully used his power against another.

The result was unexpected and loud.

The clothing glowed both red and sparkly at first and then exploded, blackening the brick wall next to him and nearly dislodging the fire escape itself. Sadly, it also ignited a pocket lighter the boy had next to his first pack of cigarettes. It would be the last time he ever smoked. The bang and flash sent Remy back onto his ass hard, his fingers burnt and smoking as he scrambled to save himself from falling. Pierre fared much worse. He didn't fall from the fire escape, but what was left of the shirt caught fire and he was howling, his upper torso burnt down to the bone. There had been quite the ruckus and an ambulance trip to the nearest hospital. To this day Pierre still carried the ugly scars on his chest and arms. Jean Luc never punished Remy for this, he was defending himself and the look of horror on the boy's face had been enough.

Remy didn't think of the incident often, but every now and again, it came back to him, just as it did now. The black scorch mark on the side of the trailer could have easily been one of his own. Whatever had happened here, it was possible an energy producer could have been involved. Of course, just because it looked like that, didn't mean that's what it was.

Remy touched the black mark, wanting to feel it. It had been fairly intense, the vinyl was melted. A tool had been involved after all, Remy could see. Large wooden splinters had been driven into the vinyl hard. Not only that, but here was the hammer head, shattered into pieces and dug in deep. This had been no ordinary hammer, it was a mallet, large and heavy. It wouldn't have been so easy to break it apart like that by hand.

Remy sighed, trying not to get too far ahead of himself. Just because it looked like something involving a mutant had happened here, didn't mean that's what it was. All the same, he used a small digital camera he had brought along to take some sample photos of the scene for future reference.

Remy dug into a pocket and reviewed the police report again. It said that the cops had been called and once they arrived, they had found Jerry, the husband, mangled and bleeding to death in the front yard. His right arm had been blown off by some kind of explosive blast, one that had never been explained. There was no time – one quick look at Kathy and the kids showed the situation was worse than anyone had expected. Jerry died before the ambulance ever got there and Kathy and her two small girls had been taken to a center for Flush quarantine where all of them had died shortly after.

Gambit grumbled with mild irritation at how complicated this was turning out to be and stuffed the notes back into his pocket. If he wanted more facts, he wasn't going to find them outside. He opened the poor battered door to the place and stepped inside.

..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..--

Remy crossed the threshold and he gagged almost immediately, having to cover his mouth to keep from vomiting. Like most Flush sites, this trailer had been marked for quarantine and then left just as it was. There was food rotting right there on the table and in the filth in the sink. It had been determined that the Flush virus only spread with person to person contact, but there was enough ignorance out there that it was a miracle this place hadn't been torched. It had been looted as he had suspected however, he could see that most items of any value had already been taken – there was an empty television stand and wiring strung out for a missing Playstation or stereo that lay about on the matted living room carpeting.

Remy wasn't new to this, but he was more used to spying on the very rich. Those times he'd gone on spying runs it had given him a sort of thrill, like looking in on another life he could have had. Henri had taken advantage of his full Thief status and like Etienne, had a large house full of riches and toys. Remy was different. He had money to be sure, but he had never gone crazy with it. He could have but never had the desire. Molly was simple like he was and didn't need it either, making keeping their life nice and easy that much easier.

Now, seeing the squalor of this ruined life made him feel sick. This dump made his own small yet tidy apartment seem like Etienne's mansion. The place was dirty and not just because it had been empty for six months and then raided by looters. Too many things that looters would have ignored were disorganized and unclean, no doubt the way the family had left them even as they lived here. A broken cupboard, a cracked window, a leaky faucet over a sink full of dirty dishes spoke of heartbreaking poverty and neglect. There were, even now, lingering emotional vibrations of despair and anger here, floating about in the air malodorously and a worse pollution than the rotting food.

No one should have to live this way, Remy was thinking. It was sickening, the idea of kids growing up here in squalor and violence. He had grown up poor himself but even he was looked after better than this at the orphanage in New Orleans. This was horrible, depressing and sad.

Remy shrugged off his feelings of unease and began nosing about. The clues weren't going to find themselves so off he went. He noticed a child's drawing held up on the fridge by brightly colored letter magnets and was instantly brought back in time. Angel, Kimble's adopted daughter, had so loved to draw and had left many such treasures for him in just that same place. He was forced to close his eyes on tears as a sudden wellspring of grief nearly swayed him. He'd spent as much time with Angel as Kimble had, she could just as easily have been his own daughter and the loss had been horrible. It was just as well Kimble had not come along, it would have been sure to upset him as well.

Again, Remy collected himself and got about the business he'd come here for. The drawing was made by a child, but it didn't mean it had nothing to say. The drawing showed a composite family – mother, father, two sisters. The page had been ripped however, at an odd enough angle to suggest something had been removed. Remy took it from the fridge and pocketed it, keeping it for himself.

He noted a dog bed on the floor next to the stove, one with a rumpled blanket on it. Oddly though, there was no dog bowl or dog food in the cupboards. No collars or leashes lay about. Of course the looters may have taken these things, but the police report said nothing about a dog either. Curious.

The trailer was small, he didn't think he would have to spend oodles of time looking about. He found a bedroom and peeked inside. It was painted pink with matching colors on the bedclothes, suggesting this was where the girls had slept. There were dolls and teddy bears, confirming his guess. He pawed through the bed -- kids were so good at hiding things – and found something that made him smile. Here was the rest of the drawing, tucked under a pillow. It showed a young boy with the name Julien scrawled above it.

_**/ As in Little Julie One hand...? **_Shi'ow-ri whispered, giving voice to the thought that had only just ghosted through his mind. She was so smart, this one inside of him. She was his intuition, his helper, his guide, and he wouldn't give her up for the world.

Remy, a natural detective, shivered with some pleasure at the thought of things clicking into place, he couldn't help it. The name was very similar to Little Julie One Hand, too similar to be ignored. Not many kids were named Julien. A scorch mark outside, a busted hammer, a dead father and a kid with a mangled hand. Little Julie One hand, a powerful enough mutant to require a restraining collar. So far so good. It all still fit, these facts.

He moved on, finding a laundry room. He pawed through a pile of rumpled, smelly clothes and found mixed in their laundry a pair of boy's underwear much too small to possibly belong to the husband. Oh, yeah. There were three kids all right. Two girls and a boy.

It was all making sense now. If Julien was gone when the cops had come then chances were he'd taken off when the explosion occurred. If he was a mutant and an energy producer -- and Remy was fast becoming convinced he was -- then where did he go? Did he run as far away as Twilight itself?

"Gambit's gonna find 'im for you, Kathy. Don' you worry none about dat," he whispered in a soft promise. No, he hadn't been able to save Kathy from the harshness of life and the Flush, but he could do this one thing for her.

Not finding anything more in the laundry room, Gambit moved on to the main bedroom. This room was more shabbily furnished and a bigger mess. Clothing lay strewn on the floor and the bedclothes thrown off the bed. Remy also saw a lot of drug paraphernalia, enough to make him cringe and grumble again in exasperation. Who would raise kids like this?

_**/ Someone with no job and no money, **_Shi'ow-ri whispered, her tone chiding him for his inability to emphasize.

Remy nodded in apology, making an inward promise to not be so judgmental. He wasn't getting the whole picture, he knew that. You never could with such after the fact evidence to sift through. He had no witnesses, all the real people here were dead.

He found a small night stand that had been smashed by looters and its contents dumped out on the floor. Here he found another small stack of photos. He smiled, thinking pay dirt, and sifted through them quickly. He had hoped he might at least get some images of happier times, but what he saw made him just wince. There were some professional family pictures here, but mainly they showed Kathy, her husband and the two girls. Julien was nowhere in sight. Under those were some more personal ones, ones a whole lot less pleasant. Apparently Kathy had been considering some kind of court action against someone, maybe her husband. These pictures all showed herself, pictures taken that revealed large ugly bruises all over her body and face.

Remy had to hold back a surge of dangerous anger. He had to be mindful of his powers these days, the large spikes had been getting worse and were most often happening when he was angry. He didn't want to ruin the clues he had just found. His anger was tainted with no small amount of guilt. Sure he'd had a good time with Kathy and her friend. But the whole time he never considered what her home life was like or if she might have kids. She was just a whore to him, a good time girl to distract him from his exile and loneliness.

"Je suis de'sole..." he apologized to the air, as if that could make things right, when he knew it meant nothing, not to the dead.

He forced himself to flip through the whole stack of pictures and it was a good thing, he might have missed the bigger surprise at the bottom. It seemed Kathy wasn't the only victim here, next were a brief series of pictures of a young battered body, mostly likely one of the kids. There were no faces in the pictures, but the shots showed a series of bruised arms and legs. One showed a particularly bad episode -- the child's lower back was bruised, enough to suggest broken bones or even internal bleeding.

"Bastard!" Remy snarled. He flipped through the stack quickly, still hoping for a facial shot of the child. He almost went too fast in his fury, but stopped in time when he got a frontal view. It wasn't the facial shot he wanted, but it clearly showed that the child in question was the boy, Julien. There was no doubt about that, the child was nude, all the better to get the best shots of the worst of the bruising on his lower belly and upper thighs. This child was thin, starving, barely more than bones.

"Fucker!" Remy growled again, closing his eyes. Remy had a very short list of what wasn't tolerable and child abuse was right up top. No child should have to serve as a punching bag for anyone. Of course if dear old dad was such an asshole, it could explain the scorch mark outside. Someone got his comeuppance and then some.

Remy flipped the photo over, looking for a date. He was surprised to see that the picture was only five years old, something that gave Remy some pause. The child shown here had been seven or eight at best, there was no way it could be Little Julie One Hand then. Logan had given the opinion that Julie was sixteen or seventeen and Logan was usually pretty accurate about this sort of thing. Little Julie One Hand was simply too old to be this child.

Julien? Little Julie One Hand? Remy kept running the names back and forth, as if just saying them could fix this mess. If Julien was Little Julie One Hand and in need of rescue, that would make this so easy and his efforts that much more noble. It would have been perfect – Little Julie One Hand was Julien who was Kathy's son and that was how the original picture had found its way to him. Unfortunately, the perfect little puzzle he had been working on had just fallen apart in his hands. He needed more facts and the more he searched the rest of the room, the more he saw it wasn't going to happen, not just now anyhow. It was time to go back home.

..—..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..–..--

Logan was sitting at his desk in his office, going over the team rosters when Remy found him. Remy hadn't come directly here after he arrived home, he had showered and dumped his clothes, not taking any chances on bringing the Flush home with him. Kimble and Aiden were currently scrubbing down the inside of the Dragon 2 as well.

Logan looked up expectantly, having heard the thief coming down the hall. Remy still had a slight limp and drag in his left leg from a previous leg injury, making his stride unique and easy to for Logan's enhanced hearing to identify. It was a miracle the shuffle was all that remained, the break had been severe. Henry had to put in three pins and yet there was hardly a scar. Something Logan had noticed but never really asked about, some things he would really rather not know, especially with all the Siskans Remy hung out with.

Remy rapped his knuckles on Logan's open door, but smiled when he saw the man was already expecting him. "Bon jour."

"Happy hunting?"

"It wasn't a waste of time."

"What did you find?"

"More questions."

Logan sat back, interested. He'd done enough investigations to know this was how they usually went at first. Perhaps he could be of some help. "Such as?"

Remy lay his pile of evidence down on the blotter. He'd brought it in a manilla envelope, unhappy with how small it all looked when compiled like this. He'd hoped for more. "Etienne got me de girl's address, 'er name KathyTanner. De place was empty on account de family 'ad de Flush."

"And you went in there?" Logan asked, unable to keep the disapproval out of his voice. Not everyone could heal as he did. It was a big risk.

"Oui, I call 'Enry firs'. 'E give me de okay. Firs' t'ing I found dere was a picture here, drawn by one of de kids. Got de momma, poppa, and two girls."

"Picture's ripped."

"Oui, 'ere de res'." Remy then placed the torn section, careful to line it up correctly. He watched Logan's face, looking to see what he thought.

"Julien." Logan read the name with emphasis, wasting no time in going right to the same place with it that Remy had. It's not like there were a lot of kids with that name, really.

Without speaking, Remy spread out the Polaroids he'd found next, going nice and slow, from bad to worse. Logan was silent as he watched this, but his jaw was working. His teeth ground louder the further down the stack Remy went. He tolerated child abuse no better than Remy did.

"Why would anyone do dis to a chile?" Remy asked, his voice rueful and sad.

Logan shifted, considering his answer. "I've seen this in some guys. It could be because this kid was a boy and he saw him as a threat in some way. Could be the kid wasn't his. Julien was the oldest, right?"

"I t'ink so, going by de drawing, but some kids, dey don' draw to scale."

"Any family pictures?"

"Oui, but only wit de girls, not wit 'im."

"Could be the guy knew Julien was a mutant early. Something that gave it away, his skin or his eyes. Something we can't tell just from these pictures," Logan offered. He was thinking of Grace. Other than her horns, he thought she could pass for normal.

Remy could relate to the bigotry, it had been the same with Henri and Pierre.

"Too bad there weren't any facial shots," Logan commented as he browsed the pictures. "Can't tell from these if it's the same kid from Twilight."

"It ain't, or at leas' I don't exactly t'ink so."

"Why's that?"

Remy took the last photo, the one that was dated and lay it face down so Logan could read the date. "Goan by dat date, dis chile too young to be Little Julie One Hand."

Logan sat back and chewed on that a minute before offering, "Mutation's a funny thing, Never can tell with some kids. The name's awful close to be nothing."

"Je sais, je sais."

Logan shook his head, trying to clear it. They weren't going to solve this without some help. "Where's the family now?"

"All dead. Poppa bought it at de house. I'm t'inkin' either Kathy took him down for beatin' on de kid or mebbe it was Julien dat 'ad enough. Dere was a big burn mark on de side of de house, like an explosion an energy producer would make, eh?" Remy said, laying down a photo he had taken of the outside. He'd been very thorough during his visit to Kathy's trailer, snapping pictures of anything he'd thought might be relevant. "Cops come to de house. Dey don' care so much poppa's bleadin' to deat' once dey see Kathy and de kids all got de Flush. Kathy and de girls all passed at leas' five months ago. Dere no record of Julien bein' taken anywhere. M' guessin' de kid took off b'fore de cops got dere."

"And ran away far, all the way to Twilight," Logan mused, just as Remy had earlier.

"Now we back to de kid bein' too young."

"Or not..." Logan said next, his voice soft and more thoughtful as he tried to reason this out. "Leroy said this kid came with Frost from before. Time is funny in Twilight. If Julien spent enough time off world...?"

"Isn't dat a bit of reach?" Remy asked, a bit of irony in his smile. "I mean, really now, mon ami."

Logan grinned back. "Why not? It's not as strange as other stuff we've seen over the years."

"If you say so," Remy replied, not exactly in agreement. It did sound an awful lot like forcing their hunches to fit the clues when it might not be the case at all.

"Anyhow, you just might get yer answers soon enough. We're leavin' tomorrow morning for Twilight so pack up yer boys and get yer gear ready."

Remy nodded. He had been expecting this. "What's de plan?"

"Both Fallen and you are gonna fly out both Dragons. We got a lot of people in on this. Yer gonna fly out Simone and his bodyguards real quiet like. I don't want Fury to see Simone at all. I trust the guy, but not that much."

"Bodyguards fo' Simone?" Remy repeated with some amusement. The whole thing sounded too outrageous to be true.

"Kyle and Sabes."

Remy barked a laugh at that. He thought for sure it was some kind of joke. "Fo' serious?"

"For serious," Logan asserted. "I want to make sure he comes back 'not dead'."

"Don' you 'ave dat backwards? Dose guys practically kill on sight," Remy complained, all humor gone from his voice. He had a past with Sabretooth, one he'd rather forget. Kyle he didn't know at all but the reports he'd read had made the kid sound just as bad. He didn't want to be anywhere near either one, never mind fly them anywhere.

"They have their uses. Chuck's on board with this."

Remy shook his head, this was sounding worse and worse the more he thought about it. "What about Kimble?"

"What about him?"

Remy squinted, his eyes going hard. "Sabes 'is former Master. Creed don' go anywhere near my boy, you know dat."

"Yeah, well, sometimes exceptions have to be made fer the greater good. Besides, it ain't like they're gonna see each other and throw down hot and heavy on the floor. You had Kimble trained better than that, last I knew."

Remy stepped back from Logan's desk, crossing his arms in anger. "Dat wasn't too polite, patron."

"Yeah well, it's the truth. This is the mission and Kimble's going to be on the job. If he wants to be an X-man, he's going to have to deal with seein' people he knew in ...other capacities... without kicking up a fuss."

Remy started to complain, but stopped in mid breath as he fully processed what Logan had just said. Kimble? An X-man? Since when?

Logan just smiled, amused that the kid was speechless, a bit of a first. "That's right, kid. You heard that just fine. Soon as you leave here, Chuck's gonna want to talk to you. You did good with flyin' me out and gettin' me back in one piece. Yer reinstated and yer flight crew just got a promotion. Not that I'm all on board with them bein' Siskan and all... but things aren't always up to me," Logan finished, a bit of humor in that last dig.

"Merci..." Remy stammered, at a bot of a loss. The reinstatement he had expected but promoting the guys, well, Kimble would be so pleased.

"The guys'll be Level One only fer starters. They'll still have to pass the trials later if they want to move in rank and all that, same as anyone else."

"Passin' de trials won't be no problem," Remy replied. The Professor knew that being an X-man was risky and so had training levels already established for anyone wanting to join the official ranks. They would have to pass grueling physical and mental tests before receiving any promotion. Being Siskan, his flight crew had a bit of advantage, they were naturally stronger and faster than most humans, and having a computer driven memory system, they could retain information with near perfect recall. The only question would be in mental stability – both of them had shattered personalities that had been repaired. While Aiden seemed stable enough, Kimble had shown more than once that the repair made to him hadn't held as well as it should. Then again, Remy doubted very seriously that Kimble was driven to rise much higher than a Level One anyhow. He liked being right where he was.

"I wasn't really supposed to say anything so when you see Chuck, try to at least act surprised," Logan teased. "Now you'd best be off. Got a busy day tomorrow."

To be continued in Breaking Frost.

..--..--..--..--..--..--..--...--

Author's notes: Hey everyone, just wanted to take a moment here to assure you guys that though there will likely be a delay in the next book being posted, it will get done. The thing is, the next book will be a bit more complicated as it involves a military action against the island. Big fights have always been something of a weak spot for me (I think anyhow), so it might take me an extra week or two to sort it all out. I hope to begin posting it by the end of July at the latest.

–Squeeks


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